The Agent
by daccu65
Summary: How can a teenage girl consistently defeat a scientific genius criminal mastermind with a super-powered assistant? Why does law enforcement tolerate his constant schemes? Could there be more to the situation? A former hero is about to learn things aren't always what they seem.
1. Chapter 1

Dear Reader:

Before reading this little tale, please note that I do not own any of the characters appearing in the following pages. This story is not written for profit, merely for the enjoyment of writing and hopefully, your enjoyment in reading. This is an alternate universe tale, taking place shortly after "So the Drama". That said, lets join the familiar characters, a few weeks after the events shown in the STD movie...

* * *

The wall was blank and unadorned, but at least it was very gray. Shego snorted at her own attempts at humor, it was all she had to try to fight off the boredom. Okay, she had a couple of books from the prison library but she just wasn't that much into formalized literature. She preferred magazines but the prison didn't stock the ones she liked. Sighing once again, she tried to force her attention back to the personnel management book in front of her, hoping to be more prepared to handle the henchmen when she and Dr. D finally got out of this joint and back into the swing of things.

Giving up for the moment, she dropped to the floor and pumped out fifty push-ups before rolling over and performing fifty sit-ups. The green-hued woman repeated this twice, burning off excess energy in an effort to make the book a little more engaging. She had just returned to her chair and resumed reading before she heard footsteps in the hall outside her cell.

This was something unusual. In her fairly extensive experience at the business end of incarceration, the guards usually wore hard-soled shoes while the inmates wore either slippers or socks. Global Justice was different; the guards wore soft-soled shoes while the inmates wore hard-soled shoes. The result was quiet guards, who could suddenly appear outside your cell and relatively noisy inmates, who the guards could track by sound. Not that she had much experience with her fellow inmates; she had only seen three people not wearing Global Justice blue in the weeks since she had been in this prison. Intrigued by the idea of seeing another prisoner, she was disappointed to see another guard appear at her cell door.

"Prisoner, turn around, back to the door and present your wrists," the guard commanded.

This was another thing about the Global Justice prison, the inmates weren't allowed to develop a set routine. While the lights went out at 10:00 PM and went back on at 6:00 AM, while meal times were at the same time every day, you never knew when shower time, library time, work time or exercise time would come. Shego shrugged her shoulders and complied, wondering if she was about to be put to work or allowed to exercise. She decided to show just a little attitude, to make sure everyone knew she wasn't intimidated.

"So, am I finally going to get some outside rec time?" She demanded, crossing her wrists behind her and backing towards the door. "I still haven't seen my lawyer, and what about the other inmates? You guys haven't told me why I'm in solitary." She found the door hatch by touch and pushed her hands through, waiting for the guard to shackle her wrists.

"Prisoner, step back from the door," the guard commanded.

"What do you mean?" She demanded. "You never put the manacles on my..."

"Shego!" A familiar voice hissed. "Just follow the commands and I'll get us out of here!"

"Dr. D?" She gasped. "What's going on..."

"Quiet!" The voiced demanded, in a quiet yet harsh whisper. "There will be time for questions later."

Deciding that her boss must have a plan, Shego kept her hands behind her, as if they were shackled, and stepped forward, away from the door. Moments later, she heard the door open.

"Prisoner, step into the hall."

Shego turned around and trudged through her door to stand next to Drakken, who was standing with his hands shackled behind his back and two more guards behind him.

"Prisoners, follow me." The lead guard commanded, then stalked off down the hall. Shego and Drakken followed and even though Shego couldn't hear them, she was sure the other two guards were following.

"Stay right on my right shoulder," Drakken instructed her, in a low whisper. "The guards and our manacles are all holograms, transmitted by generators in my clothing. If you move from my right shoulder, you'll disrupt the image and we'll be in trouble."

"How did you.."

"Keep quiet!" He hissed. "Play along for a few more minutes and I'll explain everything! If we don't get out, I'm dead and you're looking at something almost as bad!"

Shego choked back the questions _THIS_ statement prompted and concentrated on keeping on Drakken's shoulder. She also tried to memorize as much of the unfamiliar route as she possibly could, in case she came this way again. After several minutes of walking through plain hallways, they came to a steel door.

"Prisoner transfer," Shego had to admit that Drakken had skills when he chose to apply them, she swore the voice was coming from the fake guard in front of her.

"My records don't show...wait a minute! I _do_ have orders to pass prisoners! They weren't here when I came on duty!" A shocked voice, from a speaker next to the door announced.

"Not surprising," one of the false guards commiserated. "Not only were other holding facilities damaged, the repair crews have been overworked and there are a lot of damaged roads to try to run equipment over, even when you can get around to repairing places. Facility XB7 probably wasn't scheduled to be back on line before this morning."

"...and orders say that's where you're going, all right," the unseen guard replied, as the steel door slid to one side. "Straight down corridor Delta and to the hangar. Three hover jets are warming up."

"Thanks," the projection replied, before leading the small group down what Shego assumed was the indicated corridor.

The corridor led to another security door. Beyond that, the group found itself in a circular room. Once the door they had just passed through closed another, one of four additional portals, opened. Once in this hallway, Shego could hear the sound of hover jet engines ahead of her and feel the rumble through the floor. Moments later, the two villains and their fake guards passed through yet another door and into a small hangar; just large enough to hold three Global Justice hover jets. Two mechanics and two additional guards approached the new arrivals.

"Stay close," Drakken hissed to his companion. "This is where things get tricky."

"Okay Drakken," one of the fake guards snarled at the captives. "You're in the lead vehicle. Shego goes in the second and two guards are in the trail vehicle. Before the two of you get any wild ideas, the two lead vehicles are locked on autopilot, even if you break free there's no way you can..."

A muted blast, followed by a shower of sparks from the trail vehicle's engine housing, interrupted the simulated lecture. The two mechanics rushed to the malfunctioning vehicle and cut the power.

"Fuel injector's busted," one of them reported, after examining a diagnostic screen. "It'll be two hours to disassemble the engine and replace it."

"No thanks," one of the holographic guards countered. "We have a schedule to keep."

"Not without violating standing orders," one of the real guards countered. "Standard policy for enhanced villains is one per vehicle, with a chase vehicle following the convoy."

"And secure communications are still screwed up," the false guard replied. "The central control point didn't get the word we were moving these two until we were on our way here. Facility XB7 is expecting these two to arrive in ninety four minutes, with a variance of only nine minutes. If they don't arrive on schedule, the alerts are going to go out. Do you want to explain to Dr. Director why the whole organization went on full alert, why all investigations were suspended, because of a leaky fuel injector?"

The real guard looked suddenly unsure of himself.

"We can put both prisoners in the lead vehicle," the fake guard continued. "We'll lock it in autopilot, so they have no potential hostages. We'll monitor them from the second vehicle."

"Okay, but this is on your authority," the real guard conceded.

"Of course," the hologram nodded. "Let's get moving. Prisoners, into the lead vehicle."

Shego stayed next to her employer as the hologram guards herded them into the idling aircraft. The holograms actually went through the motions of connecting the illusionary manacles to hard points in the passenger compartment.

"Don't power up," Drakken hissed at his companion. "No matter what I shout."

Before Shego could question this statement, shouts sounded from outside the vehicle.

"Fry the controls!" Drakken roared, while jumping through a hatch and into the cockpit. Shego was right on his heels, shocked that he took the pilots seat.

"This isn't the time to play around," she snarled at him.

"So sit down and shut up!" He growled back.

Shocked by his unusual decisiveness, Shego took the copilot's seat; at least until she figured out his plan. "You better have a damned good reason for bossing me around like that," she told him.

"You can judge for yourself, in a few minutes," he murmured, manipulating the controls. The aircraft leapt from the floor and barreled through the hangar's doors.

Rather than climbing to a safe altitude, the vehicle stayed low over a forest.

"Middleton up ahead," Drakken told her. "I have a bolt hole prepared. Don't flare your plasma, I suspect Global Justice can track it like a radio transmission. Hold on!"

The blue scientist's command proved timely. Shego gasped as her boss, who she hadn't suspected could fly an aircraft with any skill, guided the craft along the city's streets at high speed and barely above the pavement.

"Get ready to jump out," he commanded.

Moments later, the hover jet decelerated abruptly. Drakken smashed his fist on one last control before leaping out of his chair and back into the passenger compartment. Shego followed him through the compartment and out of the hatch. She only had moments to notice another hover jet swooping up next to them before their aircraft started to spew thick, blinding smoke.

"The other craft is on autopilot," Drakken told her, noticing that she had dropped into a martial arts stance. "Stay powered down, but lift that drain grate."

As soon as Shego lifted the grate her companion had indicated, Drakken jumped in the storm sewer underneath. Shego followed him and lowered the grate back into place as the two hover jets rose back into the sky.

"They're heading to different, abandoned lairs," Drakken informed her, leading her down the cramped, concrete passage. "I rigged one of them to mimic your plasma transmissions. With any luck, Global Justice will run that one down, find it empty, then waste more time tracking the other craft. In the meantime, we have work to do."

"Maybe," Shego drawled back. "But you better start explaining in the next couple of minutes."

"That I will," he countered, showing no hint that he was intimidated. He patted a section of the tunnel wall. "First, push here, hard."

Shego did as instructed and the concrete hinged downward, forming a short ramp to another tunnel.

"Close it behind us," Drakken told her, clambering down the ramp and feeling along the other tunnel's wall. Once Shego got the hidden door closed, lights came on in the new passage.

Drakken simply led her down this new passage which, after a hundred feet or so, ended at a plain door. This door opened into what appeared to be a comfortable, if sparse, set of rooms. Shego took a quick look around. The main room looked like a control room, with computer consoles and monitors on two walls. Further into the complex were a couple of spartan bedrooms, a bathroom and a storeroom. Shego didn't bother examining the storage area's contents but noted that the room had a very large, locked door. Satisfied that they weren't about to be ambushed, she stalked back to the main room.

"Okay, now's the time for explanations," the mastermind told her, looking up from a workstation. "I have work to do, but I'll start a video that you might find interesting."

"Not so fast!" Shego snarled. "Before you do anything else, you're gonna tell me how you got us out of that joint!"

"What?" He demanded in return. "Shego, do you doubt my genius?"

"Damned right! We were only in that place for a couple of weeks! How did you manage to build hologram projectors and hack into the hover jet controls? How do I know that this isn't another setup? How do I know you're really Drakken?"

"Valid questions," Drakken nodded. "For your first battery of questions, why, I've been a freelance operative for Global Justice for the past three years. During that time, I planted equipment and made plans in case I was ever on the business end of their version of justice. For the how do you know it's really me, you don't. You're going to have to decide if you're going to trust me or not."

"A...freelancer? You've been working for them?"

"If you think a little more deeply, you'll see that it actually makes sense," Drakken offered a small smile. "However, you'll now be asking an even more urgent question; why did I just escape? The answer is simple, I was in danger of outliving my usefulness and their plans for you had taken a decidedly dark turn. As much as it pains me to admit it, Shego, I've grown fond of you and I don't want to see you manipulated the way they intended to."

"Dark plans, too dark for you?"

"That organization is willing to go to lengths that make me flinch," he shrugged. "Of course, I'm only flinching because it was about to go to those lengths upon me, rather than for me. I can handle ruthlessness against strangers but not upon myself or those I care about."

"Okay, I'm willing to believe you're the real Drakken after that last statement," Shego drawled, relaxing slightly. "So I've been living a lie for the last three years? You haven't been trying to take over the world?"

"It's more a simulation than a lie," Drakken countered. "My mission was to develop technologies that could..."

A quiet chime sounded from his workstation, interrupting his explanation.

"Global Justice has just disabled the aircraft I had programmed to simulate your plasma emissions," he announced. "I must now program the other aircraft to execute some deceptive maneuvers, while routing my transmissions via commercial transmitters, of course."

"What?"

"I'm trying to get a better grip on their ability to track these aircraft," he explained, while concentrating on the monitors and controls in front of him. "They didn't fully trust me; probably a wise precaution, so I don't know their exact capabilities. I need to determine those capabilities if I'm to evade them. As such, I'm trying to observe them on the hunt without giving away our location. Now, why don't you let me start an instructional video at that other workstation?" The man gestured toward the mentioned station with his chin, not wanting to take his hands off of the controls. "You'll get your answers and I'll make my observations."

"Okay, I'm playing along for the moment," Shego conceded. "But if this is more manipulation..."

She let the threat hang.

"I'm perfectly aware that you're capable of dismembering me," he replied, in a distracted tone. He was already engrossed in his work. "However, I'd suggest you don't; you don't know the full situation at this time and you're going to need me. On the other hand, should you decide to do so, don't use your plasma, this chamber isn't sufficiently shielded to conceal those electromagnetic signatures when you go active, so to speak."

"Okay, I'm intrigued," she admitted. "Start your after-school video."

"Very well," he displayed a small, distracted grin while activating another control. "There will be a quiz later. Extra credit if we actually escape."

Shego actually chuckled just a little at his attempted humor.

The screen in front of her flared to life, displaying a menu with several videos waiting to be viewed. "Might as well start at the beginning," she muttered, clicking on the oldest icon.

Shego was surprised to see the INTERPOL logo appear on her screen while a narrator provided the time and date of an interview. While she didn't know much about the operations of many international agencies, she was very familiar with INTERPOL. After a few seconds, the logo faded to show a distinguished, elderly gentleman.

"Greetings," the man said. "The following is a recorded interview, conducted by INTERPOL. I am Secretary General..."

Shego noted that the almost classic Godzilla-movie-esk manner in which his lip movements didn't match the sound meant that the recording was being overdubbed. She didn't even hazard a guess as to which language the man was speaking, but noticed that the date he gave for the interview was when she was thirteen.

"Right before we formed Team Go," she mused.

"The purpose of this interview is to discuss a new challenge to international law enforcement," the Secretary General stated. "A small, but growing number of criminals have begun to utilize physical enhancement and non-firearm weaponry during their illegal activities. This has presented law enforcement with a unique problem. Currently, the United States has experienced the greatest number of these malefactors, and has experienced the most success in combating them. In answer to my request, the United States' Federal Bureau of Investigation has sent its foremost expert in this field to our office. Agent Betty Director will inform us of the unique problems these criminals present, the methods the FBI has used to combat them, as well as the successes and failures they have experienced. That said, I turn the podium over to Agent Director."

 _"Betts used to be in the FBI?"_ Shego asked herself, while the view zoomed out. The view's widening angle revealed that the Secretary General had been standing behind a podium at the front of a lecture hall. In the audience, dozens of diplomats sat behind desks, each bearing a different national flag. Shego realized just how seriously INTERPOL took the threat...at least back then.

 _"She looks different with two eyes and without a Global Justice jumpsuit_ ," Shego thought to herself, as the trim woman strode to the podium.

"Thank you, Mister Secretary," the agent nodded to the older man, who took a seat off to the side of the podium. "Ladies and gentlemen of the General Assembly, on behalf of the United States in general, and the Federal Bureau of Investigation in particular, I thank you for the opportunity to describe our failures and successes in combating this new challenge, and to request mutual cooperation. While several nations have suffered the activities of these new villains, which we have named techno-villains, my nation seems to have experienced the greatest activity. Before describing our theories and methods, it is best that I first describe just what we are facing."

"The techno-villain has learned to manipulate public opinion," the young agent began. "He does this in three ways. First, he does not target the general public. The intelligent techno-villain doesn't seize the so-called "every-man" and hold him for ransom; he won't rob a typical citizen nor an institution with which the typical citizen regularly interacts, such as a bank or mercantile facility. By avoiding harming the typical citizen, at least directly, the techno-villain makes the link between the crime and the citizen tenuous, at least in the typical citizen's mind."

"Secondly, the techno-villain refrains from using recognizable, deadly force when he commits his crimes. He doesn't stoop to the use of guns or high-explosive bombs. Rather, he makes use of bizarre shock-rays, martial arts, fighting robots, or other non-standard means when confronting either a victim or a law-enforcement agent. Because the public doesn't see immediate, deadly consequences of his actions, the public's sense of outrage is significantly muted."

"Finally, the techno-villain is deliberately flamboyant," Agent Director continued. "He sacrifices some efficiency to be entertaining. Some adapt a theme; such as a color, music, or other seemingly innocent trait. Others simply make their scheme's overly complicated, almost in a Rube Goldberg manner. Quite often, the public will be so fixated on what form of scheme this criminal will attempt that the public is no longer concerned that he _**is**_ attempting to execute another scheme."

"As a result, the techno-villain can generate a sense of tolerance, even affection, from the general public," the agent concluded. "While nobody wants this criminal to succeed, very few feel threatened enough to condone deadly force against him...until it's too late. I'd now like to call your attention to two examples; one of a success and one of a failure, that we at the FBI have experienced."

"Each of you should have already received these files last week," Betty said, stepping away from the podium and walking to the front of the stage. Shego could hear the sounds of the audience shuffling papers, confirming that the audience was reviewing information.

"In both cases, the techno-villain in question was Drew Lipsky, a brilliant but erratic failed scientist." Agent Director informed her audience. "Mr. Lipsky was a socially isolated engineering student before turning to a life of petty crime. His initial forays into criminal action were mainly subsistence actions; he stole for money and basic survival resources. Being a very intelligent individual, he was highly successful in these efforts."

Shego hit the pause button to spare a glance at her employer.

Successful?

She couldn't believe it! Almost all of his schemes were failures but still, where did he get the money to keep trying? Deciding there might be something to learn about Drakken, as well as this current situation, she hit the play button again.

"His success brought federal investigation," the agent informed her audience, once the file started to play again. "And Mr. Lipsky had several, close escapes. It was at this time, either through a conscious thought process or pure luck, he established the techno-villain method of operation. He established the identity of Doctor Drakken and undertook an elaborate plot to affect the world's coffee production."

"Yes, I know it sounds absurd," Agent Director spoke up slightly, overriding the muted round of chuckles that sounded from her audience. "However, consider this; if his scheme had succeeded, he would have extorted one US penny for every two cups of coffee consumed."

The chuckles abruptly stopped.

"It's good to know that you understand the implications," the young agent favored the unseen audience with a tight smile. "Not only did Dr. Drakken's scheme have the potential of reaping a massive, financial return but by spreading the cost among billions of potential victims, no one victim would have been severely inconvenienced. It was at this time that the FBI experienced a serious failure."

"Mr. Lipsky needed raw chemicals in order to produce some exotic herbicides," Betty Director explained. "We had identified several chemical warehouses that he would be likely to target and had assets in place when he made his move. Unfortunately, Mr. Lipsky's method of operation and timing were excellent. First, he chose to act during a holiday night, when the warehouse and the surrounding area were deserted. Finally, he had previously constructed some...vaguely... female robots, which he sent to acquire the chemicals. The FBI sent in an elite, heavily armed team to halt the criminal activity..and disaster followed."

"The robots...which he called Bebes, were sufficiently armored to withstand typical handgun projectiles. Also, they were not armed with dedicated weaponry, although their strength and speed made them formidable opponents. During the confrontation, the warehouse sustained serious collateral damage and the containers holding several dangerous chemicals were shattered, requiring us to evacuate all points within two kilometers of the warehouse. Several news crews, attracted by the sounds of gunfire and explosions, managed to record portions of the confrontation. Finally, the warehouse's security cameras recorded much of the altercation. The result was a public relations disaster."

"The facility owner, his insurance underwriter, and the general public did not see a dedicated law enforcement team confronting a dangerous foe. Rather, the public saw a group of almost laughable robots stealing strange chemicals from an odd warehouse. They saw government agents unleashing heavy weaponry against mechanical devices that didn't shoot back. They saw that the damage done to the warehouse, the releasing of the chemicals and the need to evacuate homes and businesses were caused by the agent's weaponry."

The agent paused for dramatic effect, "the public didn't ask why these robots were stealing someone's property...They didn't ask what these chemicals were going to be used for...They asked why a federal agency needed so much firepower and was so zealous to apply it."

"It was a black eye for the FBI," she continued. "As all of you know, law enforcement can only be effective with public trust and cooperation. This is the techno-villain's greatest asset; his ability to threaten that mutually beneficial relationship. In this case, we learned our lesson. Again, you should have all received documentation explaining the steps we took to face this new type of criminal."

Shego again heard the unseen audience shuffling papers.

"To summarize our actions, we prepared ourselves to face Mr. Lipsky's next attack. To do so, we developed non-lethal weaponry...really nothing more than beefed-up cattle prods, to disable the Bebes. We developed our agents, and recruited additional ones from our nation's martial arts experts and military special forces. Finally, we placed several of these special teams at centralized locations, provided them with rapid transport, and honed communication and cooperation between our federal agency and state and local agencies. When Drakken struck again, we were ready."

"I won't waste everyone's time bragging about our success," the agent's humility actually made Shego feel slightly nauseous. "Needless to say, we were able to disrupt Drakken's efforts, protect the public and did so without collateral damage. However, more challenges have started to emerge."

"Just as military forces must try to foresee future developments; rather than preparing to re-fight the last war, we in law-enforcement must predict the criminal's next move, rather than simply countering his last action. Furthermore we must cooperate to do so. While you have all received my agency's request, in writing, I stand before you today in order to directly offer our assistance, while pleading for yours."

"We have all received your request to share information," the Secretary General interrupted the guest speaker. "And we have all agreed to do so; our respective nations are assembling the proper infrastructure as we speak. However, I am interested in the controversial requests you hinted at in our earlier conversation."

"Very well," Betty nodded. "Ladies and gentlemen, I propose to form centralized teams, dedicated to counter the techno-villain threat. These teams will not enforce laws; they will mobilize to neutralize the techno-villains, wherever they may appear. We must provide these teams with the best equipment and training available; but we must go beyond this when we recruit these agents. This is the controversial request that the Secretary General just mentioned."

As the agent produced a remote control, a projection screen lowered behind her. With a click of the control, the screen displayed a picture of Shego's older brothers.

" _Could we have all been so young?"_ Shego asked herself.

"I present you with Herman and Melvin Go," Agent Director told her audience. "Two super-humans."

"This is not a hoax," the agent insisted, raising her voice to be heard over the swelling sounds of disbelief. I have personally observed their extra-human capabilities and will show them to you at this time."

A couple more clicks of the control and the screen showed Hego easily lifting a series of automobiles, followed by Mego displaying his shrinking capability.

"The oldest boy clearly has superhuman strength," Agent director informed her audience. "While the younger is clearly capable of altering his physical size. When these two young men were boys, they and three more siblings were playing in a tree house when it was struck by a rogue comet. Shortly after these two experienced puberty, their powers started to manifest. My agency has asked the siblings to form a team of super-heroes, offering to train them. Needless to say, we are keeping a close eye on the younger three, in order to see if they develop super-powers, as well."

"This is my agency's request to all of you," the agent concluded her speech. "Or, should I say, my agency's requests. First, we ask that you monitor your own populations for such super-humans; should you find any, share such information. Secondly, we seek to give our teams free reign across international borders. My government will shortly deliver formal requests to your national governments. The gist of these proposals will be to allow these super teams to pursue techno-villains wherever they can be found...so long as the super teams do not interfere in local crime and politics. Our intent is not to force our own views and standards onto anyone else; it is to give the techno-villain no place of refuge. I hope that we can agree on a certain community of interest in this regard, and convey such a need for cooperation to our national governments."

"Does anyone have questions for the agent?" The Secretary General asked the assembly. Apparently, one of the delegates indicated that he did. "The chair recognizes the Denmark Representative."

"I am interested in how these young people acquired their super powers," the unseen delegate stated. "Did this comet emit some form of radiation, produce a vapor the children inhaled, or was it some other physical affect that gave them these enhancements?"

"We cannot be completely sure," the FBI agent admitted. "But we believe it was radiation."

"Is there any way of using the remains of this comet to enhance additional volunteers?" The same, unseen voice asked. "While your agency's actions seem logical, wouldn't it be more efficient to enhance trained law-enforcement or military personnel?"

"I agree it would be much more efficient," Betty nodded towards her questioner. "However, this radiation does not seem to have any effect on adult humans. Furthermore, we are unable to locate any remnants from the comet. It appears that the comet's material was an element we have never encountered before, which decomposes to energy upon contact with Earth's atmosphere."

"The chair recognizes the Cuban Representative," the Secretary General declared, after a few moments of silence.

"Your last two comments contradict each other," the new, unseen diplomat declared. "The only way you could determine the comet's lack of effect on an adult would be to expose an adult to the comet, yet you claim you cannot find any remains. Are you covering up some sort of super-soldier program?"

"It was an independent investigator who determined both the comet's volatility and the lack of effect on adults," Betty countered. "My government, particularly NASA, is embarrassed to admit that an astrophysicist graduate student, with no government funding, mathematically determined where any comet fragments would have to be located, in orbit. He then got his hands on a disarmed, Minuteman Missile and worked with his brother to fabricate and install a robotic, sweeper apparatus. A year after the initial comet incident, before the Go Children exhibited their enhancements, he launched his homemade recovery vehicle and actually recovered comet fragments. When he opened the cargo bay, these fragments dematerialized, exposing him to the same energy that enhanced the Go Siblings. While we continue to observe him, he has shown no enhancements, himself."

"And what is this young man's name?" The delegate asked.

"Mr. James Possible."

* * *

Authors note: Big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his beta assistance.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Are you telling me that Kimmy's old man has comet powers?" Shego demanded.

"Not at all," Drakken countered absently, his primary attention was on his own screen. "In fact, you should have just heard that he has no such powers. That first file was to both show where Global Justice came from and to let you know why that agency has developed some dark plans for you."

"What dark plans?"

"Not now!" Drakken snapped. "Global Justice is now getting close to the remaining aircraft. We have to move!"

"Move? Where?"

"Follow me."

The blue criminal led the way into the bolt-hole's storeroom, where he pressed his thumb against the lock. The door swung open, revealing a dark, narrow tunnel.

"I've been monitoring local security and traffic cameras," Drakken explained, leading the way along the upward sloping passage. "I had to make sure any pursuit was so fixated on the aircraft that they weren't searching the local area. We _should_ have at least a couple of hours before anyone starts looking here. We're going to make use of that time to leave another false trail."

"Okay, that makes sense," Shego grumbled. "And carefully planned. That _isn't_ your usual way of doing things."

"Like I said before, I haven't been all that I've seemed...Ah! Here we are."

His last statement referred to a ladder, which provided access to what appeared to be a manhole cover. The rogue scientist climbed the aforementioned ladder, pushed the cover up slightly and peeked through. Satisfied, he heaved the cover the rest of the way off the opening and climbed the rest of the way up.

"Come on up," he instructed his employee. "I'm sure you don't trust me enough to let me leave your sight, but you can keep an eye on me and stay hidden, yourself."

"What's happening?" She demanded, climbing the ladder and finding herself in what appeared to be a furnace room.

"You're in a parking garage," her companion told her. "Where I maintain a fairly nondescript vehicle. This garage happens to have an employee who's just corrupt enough to be useful, as well as some convenient gaps in the security camera coverage."

"Meaning?" Shego prompted, as Drakken opened a door, revealing a long line of parked cars.

"Meaning I can leave this room, pass to the left of that support column and enter security camera coverage for a few minutes. I will then reach a point behind the office, where I will once again be out of the cameras' coverage. I can then return, keeping to the other side of that support, keeping out of the cameras' coverage."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Shego snarled.

"Just go with it!" He snapped back. "I'll be in your sight the entire time!"

The blue villain didn't wait for her to respond; he stomped out of the room and followed the route he had just described. When he reached the office, he pounded on a wall and a young man, in perhaps his mid 20's, left the office. There was some quick conversation between the two men, and a couple of green pieces of paper traveling from Drakken to the attendant, before Drakken returned."

"Back to the lair," he declared, closing the door behind him.

"What was _that_ all about?" Shego demanded, following him down the ladder.

"Setting the false trail," he smirked, waiting for her to replace the manhole cover. "The rather less than trustworthy attendant shall drive my car to a tiny town in South Dakota; a town that is a few miles from an abandoned manganese mine. Global Justice knows that I've stashed equipment in this mine in the past."

"So?"

"When Global Justice realizes we weren't on either of the aircraft, they'll go over this immediate area with a fine toothed comb. They will then discover my lair, find the tunnel to the parking garage and review the security tapes. They will see me approach the office and get a good view of the car leaving, a few minutes later. Then they'll spend days, at the very least, tracking that vehicle's movements. If they manage to trace it to South Dakota, they'll spend still more days digging through the mine."

"Okay genius," she smirked in return. "First of all, you said that the parking boy back there isn't very trustworthy so what's going to keep him from pocketing your cash and not doing a thing? Second, you're pretty distinctive so when anyone looks at the camera footage and sees someone who isn't blue driving, they'll know you were playing games."

"Valid points," he conceded, as they returned to the lair and locked the door behind them. "But I've taken a couple of precautions."

"First, my car contains a holographic projector that will make him look like me. Second, if he turns in this depleted projector to the right mechanic at a certain repair shop, he'll receive a locked box containing several thousand dollars. I don't trust him to do anything once I've paid him, but I trust him to pursue some easy money."

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with the real Dr. Drakken?"

"You've only just met the real Drakken," he chuckled, leading the way through the lair and back to the original storm sewer. "We have to move quickly, a street sweeper will pass by sometime in the next hour and the resulting water should run through this culvert and blot out any sign of our passage."

Shego was actually intrigued by her employers attention to detail as she closed the secret passage and followed him further along the cramped storm sewer. It didn't take long before he stopped under another manhole cover.

"This lid may require your strength," he admitted, stepping aside and allowing his assistant to push the aforementioned piece of steel aside. Shego climbed out and found herself in a debris-strewn alley. Drakken scrambled up behind her and stood a little uncomfortably close while she returned the cover.

"We now enter the same parking garage, from a different direction," he explained, leading the way to a heavy, steel door. "I have another vehicle in here. Hopefully, Global Justice won't suspect my real getaway car being stored near my fake getaway car."

"You're actually starting to scare me," Shego admitted, while her employer unlocked the door and led the way inside.

Drakken led them on a circuitous route, explaining that they were avoiding security camera coverage, until they stopped at a minivan.

"Seriously?" Shego smirked. "The great Dr. Drakken drives a minivan?"

"It's anonymous, comfortable and has considerable supplies stashed inside," he countered, showing no sign that he was offended. He produced what appeared to be a belt from the drivers seat and put in on. One touch of a button later and a holographic image appeared over him, making him look like a nondescript, middle aged man.

"Sorry I don't have one for you," he apologized, gesturing towards his belt. "I didn't know I was going to be escaping with company. I suggest you sit in the back seat, unobserved, while I get us out of here."

"Just where are we going?"

"To a very average house, in a very average town, in the Wyoming Rockies," he answered.

"Thrillsville." Shego grumbled, although she did hop into the aforementioned seat. She didn't exactly relish the idea of living in a rural setting.

"Are you referring to the long journey or to the destination?"

"Both."

"You can always hop out. I'm sure Global Justice hasn't filled your cell yet. Of course, you might not appreciate what you wind up doing."

"Okay, you said something about dark plans they had for me," she mentioned, while inspecting the van's interior. "Why don't you tell me about them? It should make the miles just fly by...and we've got plenty of miles to work with."

"You'll be better off with the full story," he countered, backing the vehicle out of the parking space. "This vehicle is equipped with an entertainment system for the back seat passengers. I've taken the liberty of copying the files I had stored in the bolt hole's computer system onto the vehicles computer memory. Why don't you sit back, relax, and enjoy the on-board entertainment?"

"This system was designed to entertain kids," she mumbled, while familiarizing herself with the files he had mentioned.

"So it should do an excellent job entertaining you," he countered, showing a small victory smirk.

"Drakken..."

"Go ahead, feel free to make a scene," he said, reminding her just how precarious her situation was.

"All right...but if this is just a waste of time..."

"It isn't," he interrupted, pulling out of the garage and onto a grimy street in a decidedly gritty section of town. "Once you have the whole story, feel free to pound me if you think it was."

"Fair enough," she answered, finding the icon for the next report. She reclined the seat a little, making herself comfortable, and started the video.

"FBI file SH2010058," a voice declared. The accompanying video simply showed the FBI's logo. Shego did some quick calculations when the voice declared the date.

" _Five years after I quit Team Go,_ " she realized. " _Shortly before I started to work for..._ "

"For the record," a distinguished-looking man declared, as the picture showed a trio of suits sitting behind an elevated podium. The center man, who appeared to be in charge continued. "This hearing is to review the current status of the FBI's Techno-villain task force, headed by Senior Agent Betty Director. Some interesting and significant events have occurred. That said, we are now calling Agent Director to report."

The camera panned to an opening door, which admitted the aforementioned agent, who closed the door behind her, approached the podium and snapped to attention.

"Senior Agent Director, reporting as ordered," she declared.

" _Well, she's turned into a cyclops,"_ Shego noted.

"Welcome, Agent Director," the chairman nodded. "Or should I say doctor? Congratulations on your doctorate."

"Thank you, chairman," the trim woman replied. "I've always been honored to be called an agent."

"And your injury?" the man inquired. "Have you recovered?"

"Fully, sir." She assured him. "Field research for my doctorate may have been somewhat more dangerous than the typical degree...but I learned more. Still, this interview is not about me, where shall I begin?"

"I'm sure you've prepared a general report about your department's activities and status. Begin there."

"Yes sir. I would like to start with the department's recruiting efforts. I regret to inform the board that we have managed to locate very, very few individuals who we can classify as enhanced. While we have managed to fill our personnel needs with elite athletes, military and law-enforcement members, we've only managed to recruit a handful of super-humans...and most of these have abilities that would be best described as 'interesting' rather than 'super'."

"I understand that this has been countered by a loss in your super-human ranks," one of the panel commented."

"That is correct," the doctor-agent replied, with no hint of evasion. "The young Go woman has left her sibling's team...the team I manipulated them to form."

"Why did she leave this team?" The questioner sounded more curious than accusatory.

"She was dissatisfied with the life."

"Please elaborate."

"Gladly," Betty glanced at her notes. "The team lived an almost military life; they attended school, trained and fought the techno-villains we identified for them to combat. The boys thrived on this life; they were, and continue to be, revered has heroes. For them, this hero worship met their psychological needs for belonging, esteem and self-actualization. The young woman, Shego, had different needs."

The agent/doctor allowed a small smirk to show before continuing. "Teenage boys are encouraged to find self-worth through sports. Proving victorious on the football field or basketball court garners public praise. For the boys, steamrolling techno-villains was even better; scoring the wining touchdown on Friday Night doesn't hold a candle to crushing a doom machine."

"What I missed was that Shego wasn't content with this life," the smirk vanished. "Her needs for belonging and self-actualization were more complex. While she enjoyed the adoration, it wasn't enough for her. Add to this, she has a rebellious streak which created a recipe for disaster. I missed the signs until it was too late. Shortly after she graduated high school, Shego left the team."

"Ever notice you never hear anything good when you hear other folks talking about you?" Shego groused to her companion.

"I think I know where you are on the tape," Drakken replied, not taking his gaze from the road. Shego could see a ghost of a smile on his face. "Don't worry, you're about to see Dr. Director unleash a massive burn on me."

What is she doing now?" Sounded from the entertainment center, as one of Dr. Director's previously seen questioners drew Shego's attention back to the presentation.

"At this moment, she's attending a university," the agent responded. "And is acquiring significant debt. She will graduate later this year and shows no interest in either rejoining the team or becoming a solo heroine. In fact, she has taken some legally questionable jobs for less than reputable patrons. Put bluntly, I've lost her and the only course I can see is to limit the damage she does."

"How do you plan to do this?" THIS voice, different from the last, had a definite tone of challenge.

"I direct your attention to the screen," the agent replied, completely unruffled. In response, a screen descended from the ceiling behind her and an image of Dr. Drakken, posing for a mug shot, appeared on the surface.

"Mr. Drew Lipsky, AKA, Dr. Drakken," Dr. Director informed her audience. "One of the original techno-villains. I've arranged for his conditional release, where he has used his genius...and even greater incompetence...to my great gain."

" _Okay, that's a burn alright," Shego decided._

"And how have you made use of him?"

"He is a major economic force in the techno-villain community," Betty stated. "He both produces and purchases technological gadgets. As he is working for me, this gives my department the ability to manipulate the weaponry the criminal element utilizes. As such, we have managed to eliminate fatalities and greatly reduce the effectiveness of other such criminals. He also steals equipment, which allows the FBI to evaluate the security capabilities of various private and governmental storage facilities that house materials that these criminals may want. It is my intention to instruct Mr. Lipsky to offer Shego permanent employment. This will both allow me to monitor her and remove her capabilities from more...serious...villains."

"Wait a minute," Shego growled at the driver. "You mean to tell me that the last three years have been just a bunch of nonsense to keep me out of trouble?"

"I'd suggest not utilizing your plasma," the object of her wrath answered, calmly. "It's in our best interest to remain discreet. However, to answer your question, somewhat. Every mission I employed you to perform was serious. However, the final goal was never world domination."

"So what would have happened if we had actually managed to pull off one of your schemes?"

"I would have made sure that improbable events would have prevented final success. I suggest you watch the remainder of the video before passing final judgment."

"Okay, fine, " she grumbled but, with nothing better to do, she did as instructed.

"Just what do you intend to do if your super-human decides to not play this part you have prepared for her?" The second voice demanded. "What happens if your tame villain decides to make use of her skills and make a real play for power?" The questioner's tone went beyond insolent.

"Then I am prepared to liquidate both assets," Agent Director answered. The lack of emotion in her voice chilled Shego. "Dr. Drakken understands his role, and the penalty for not meeting it. I have assured him, as I assure the board, that neither Drew Lipsky or Shego will survive to enjoy such an attempt."

"Spare me the details," the angry voice informed her, sounding a little more calm. "Some control methods are best left unknown."

"However, I'm interested in your recruiting efforts," the first, more sympathetic voice, declared. "What of this potential, future agent?"

"Subject six," the agent declared, as a young, familiar, redhead teen's image replaced Drakken's on the screen. "Miss Kimberly Ann Possible; daughter of mister, now doctor, James Timothy Possible."

"The young man who recovered the fragments of the comet that enhanced the Go Children?"

"The same," Dr. Director nodded to her interrogator. "I made a point of maintaining intermittent surveillance on him over the years. While he exhibits no super-human enhancements, his daughter appears to to have enhanced strength, endurance and agility. She also appears to have enhanced intelligence; although it is difficult to confirm this. As her mother is a brilliant neurosurgeon it is difficult to determine if her intelligence comes _honestly_ , from genes and nurture or due to comet enhancements."

"I'm curious," the second, more demanding, voice interrupted. "How did you determine that this teen...Kim...is enhanced?"

Dr. Director's face showed a tiny smile of triumph. "May I ask the board to call my witness?"

"Indeed," a third voice answered. "Guards, bring in the prisoner."

Shego actually gasped when she saw two burly guards escort a familiar, chubby woman in prison garb, to stand next to the one-eyed agent.

"Please state your name and professional identity," Dr. Director instructed the shorter woman.

"Dr. Amy Hall," the prisoner answered. "Known as DNAmy."

"Tell the panel your pertinent, professional capabilities."

"I have a doctorate in genetic research," the rogue scientist shrugged.

"And what caused you to be incarcerated?"

"Authorities are far too conservative!" DNAmy whined. "My work is important, potentially world altering! Apparently, nobody is willing to push the bounds of science."

"Let me translate," Dr. Director interrupted. "Dr. Hall performed genetic experiments upon live creatures, and humans. Of course, I could fill a bushel basket with all of the laws she broke but her experiments were successful. As much as I hate to admit it, as much as almost every geneticist hates to admit it, Dr. Hall's capabilities are far beyond those of anyone else."

"How did you enlist her cooperation?" The demanding voice asked.

"Tell them," Dr. Director instructed the prisoner.

"We have a deal," Amy gushed. "If I performed a genetic analysis on some subjects, searching for super human enhancements, then promised no more experiments on humans, I'll be released soon!"

"What were the findings?" The demanding voice prompted.

"The first were the Go siblings," Amy sounded absolutely giddy. "The FBI provided blood and tissue samples from the siblings, their parents, and several cousins. I was able to isolate the genetic alterations that provided them with their superpowers. You see, you have to look at genome number..."

"None of us have the genetic knowledge that you do," Dr. Director interrupted. "If you get too specific, it will be meaningless for us."

"Oh, alright," Amy whined. "Put bluntly, and inelegantly, the Go Siblings were exposed to a DNA altering radiation before adolescence, while their bodies were still forming. Because of this, their bodies developed very radical superpowers."

"Hyper strength, size manipulation, plasma emission and even replication," the demanding voice mused.

"Yes, and because the twins were the youngest, they were altered the most...and exhibit the most extreme ability!" Amy crowed.

"Okay, what about the additional subject?" He demanded, again.

"Oh! You mean subjects!" Amy corrected him. "Kim Possible and her brothers proved to be a much more interesting study. Again, the FBI managed to obtain samples from the subjects and their parents. You see, the male Dr. Possible was exposed after his body had already developed, so the radiation didn't affect his body directly. However, he can pass on certain enhancements to his children. Granted, these enhancements aren't as dramatic as the Go siblings...but they are so much more interesting to study!"

"Jim and Tim Possible are enhanced?" The agent, who would one day become known as Dr. Director, was shocked by her own witness's report.

"Yes, but it's so subtle!" Amy was truly in her element. "Again, stated both over simply and inelegantly, the Possible Siblings' enhancements are found in the gender identifying chromosome, X or Y. Kim has an X chromosome, so she enjoys the full enhancement. Roughly half of the enhancement is caused by the missing stem in the Y chromosome...which the twins do not have."

"What does this mean, to someone observing the subjects, not studying their DNA?" The demanding voice...demanded.

"The three Possible children will have close to maximum human potential in what we call intelligence," the geneticist explained. "Memory, comprehension, deductive abilities...all of these have been enhanced by the genetic alteration. However, Kim also has her physical abilities...strength, agility, endurance...enhanced as well. Because of this, some of her extra intelligence is used to operate her elevated physical capabilities. As a result, her brothers, whose physical enhancements are much more modest than hers, will have more 'spare' brain power."

"Clarify!"

"Okay, all three children received a roughly equivalent intelligence upgrade. The boys received a very modest physical upgrade while Kim received a major enhancement. With proper training, Kim should exhibit near the maximum human potential of raw strength, agility, hand-eye coordination, endurance...several physical aspects. However, it takes brain power to control these physical enhancements so some of her...run time...is devoted to this. As a result, Kim is a very intelligent young woman. Very intelligent; not hyper intelligent. Her brothers will have a minor agility enhancement but could very well turn out to be super-geniuses; since they don't have to devote brain power to controlling highly enhanced bodies."

"Dr. Hall, we're about to let you leave," the board's chairman told the witness. "But do you have anything else to say about these enhanced subjects?"

"Oh yes!" The portly criminal's enthusiasm was almost nauseating. "I hope you'll let me study the next generation that these subjects produce! Especially if the two manifestations were to cross the results could be very interesting!"

Shego noticed that Betty's eye widened slightly when her witness made this last statement. However, none on the board seemed to notice as a burly FBI agent appeared to lead Amy out of the room.

"Agent Director," the chairmen said, once the sound of a closing door indicated that the meeting was once again private. "How do you intend to handle subject Kim Possible?"

"I will not repeat the mistakes I made with Shego," the agent answered, at once. "I forced the Go Siblings into a structure of my choosing, then failed to notice when a key member began to chafe under the yoke. With Kim Possible, I will subtly nudge her towards a hero's life. I have already arranged for an expert Kung-Fu instructor to open a dojo near her neighborhood. Possible attends and is thriving under his tutelage. This instructor has made a point of occasionally mentioning the need for those with the ability to take on the responsibility of helping others. It appears that Kim is going to take on a hero's responsibility of her own free will."

"While I appreciate your emphasis on subtlety," the demanding board member told her. "This seems a little too uncontrolled to me."

"My next step is this boy," the screen dropped behind the agent, once again, to show a picture of a very young Wade Lode. "Mister Wade Lode, a super-genius and one whom I wish to recruit, in the future. I will drop a suggestion, giving him the idea to filter the requests on Possible's website, research missions and even build equipment for her. This will accomplish three tasks: First, it will allow me a minor level of control over the missions Possible undertakes...easing her into the hero role. Secondly, it will allow me to develop Mr. Lode as a researcher and designer. Finally, it will establish a contact between Mr. Lode and the Possible brothers. While I did not know, completely, that the twins were enhanced I suspected they had elevated intelligence. I wish to develop them in case they can be utilized, as well."

"This sounds reasonable," the demanding voice conceded.

"With all due respect,there's more," the agent interrupted. "From my analysis, a significant contributor to Shego's decision to leave Team Go was her lack of a satisfying life outside of Team Go. For this reason, I intend to exert a subtle influence upon Miss Possible, only revealing myself once she has embraced life as a hero. Even then, I will not dictate her actions. She will have as normal a life as possible. She will stress over term papers, struggle to mix school activities and homework with her hero's life and occasionally wonder if the effort is worth it. More than this, she will have a private life; she will hang out at the mall with friends, she will compete for a spot on the various high school teams, she will wonder why her crush doesn't pay attention to her and she will date. While I will influence events; nudging her towards such activities that provide excellent development, her life will be, in the end, her own to live."

"In other words, subtlety is the key?" The chairman's statement was half question, half remark.

"Exactly," the agent agreed. "I tried to force the Go siblings into the mold I had created for them, and one of them rebelled. I will discreetly nudge Kim, and use the results to affect how I treat other, future agents."

"I think we've heard enough," the demanding voice declared. "It's time to tell her."

"Tell me what?" The agent looked nervous.

"We are about to release you from the FBI," the chairman informed her.

"Sir?"

"Six years ago, you appealed to Interpol to establish protocols to combat the techno-villain," he replied. "Your appeal has been answered. Not only has Interpol and the UN established the protocols you requested, they have established and agency to work across national borders in order to oppose such criminals. We have to let you go, Agent Director, since you have been appointed to head this new agency. Farewell, Dr. Director, and good luck establishing Global Justice."

* * *

 **Again, my appreciation to Joe Stoppinghem for his patient Beta work.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A combination of frustration, curiosity, danger and discomfort didn't exactly contribute to a healthy appetite but Shego had learned to eat when she could. Of course, the food wasn't all that bad...in fact, it was awfully good. The only problem was that she was gulping it down in a chilly storage room.

She was also wondering if her former boss and current traveling companion had been captured, had abandoned her, or had sold her out. There was even a chance that he was going through a complicated process of obtaining resources, anonymously, like he told her he was going to do when he had left her.

Fortunately for her nerves, a very plain, if somewhat large, man strode into the storage room and plopped a tray of steaming food onto the scarred table that the restaurant had retired from active service. The nondescript man touched his belt buckle causing his image to vanish, revealing Dr. Drakken.

"I've arranged for some fairly nice lodging," he muttered, as he pulled up a worn chair, sat down and dug into his hot turkey sandwich.

Shego gave him a few minutes of peace, concentrating on her own steak. If the meal had only been served in a warm, proper dining room she would have considered it excellent dining. As much as she understood the need for sacrifice when keeping low, she was grouchy and Drakken was the only target.

"Okay!" She snapped, after reining in her temper for as long as she could manage. "Let's forget the living arrangements for the moment. You keep telling me that either Dr. Director, or Global Justice in general, have some dark ideas for me. So far you haven't shown me the proof. You've dragged me out of the prison, which means I've now got escape charges on top of whatever else they have on me, but you haven't told me why I had to leave!"

"So you preferred your previous accommodations?" Drakken actually showed some snark, himself.

"At least I could eat without shivering!" She shot back. "I didn't need to eat in a cellar storeroom!"

"You think I enjoy this?" He growled. "Back there, I could eat in peace! I could have left you there and have been eating in peace right now!"

"So what sort of dark plans are you talking about?" She demanded. "When are you going to tell me?"

"Soon," he mumbled through a mouthful of turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy. "One more presentation, showing how Global Justice utilized me, then another that shows just how dark that woman can get."

"Fine," Shego growled back, forking a piece of baked potato into her mouth. "But if those two little infomercials don't give me a damn good explanation, I'm dragging you to the nearest cop and seeing how much time I get reduced for hauling you in!"

"Fine!" He snapped back, more interested in his food than the conversation. Her temper sated for the moment, Shego was able to concentrate on her own meal.

Shego was honest enough with herself to admit...at least to herself...that part of the reason she was so irritated with Drakken was that he proved to have underworld connections of a sort she didn't know existed. In a way, it made sense; even techno-villains needed food and lodging when on the move, but she had never really thought of how they obtained such necessities. This small facility, with a cafe, a restaurant and a bar, served some of these needs.

Right now, she didn't care how the owner had come to an agreement with the criminal element, she was royally peeved that the naive Drakken knew about such facilities when she didn't. He was supposed to have the book smarts while she had the street smarts.

She had been more than a little shocked when the disguised man pulled behind a motel in this small town, then led the way to this facility. Drakken had a few words with the manager before leading her into a back door, down a flight of steps and to this storeroom. Shego hadn't even had a chance to examine the contents before Drakken left again, telling her to stay in the basement while he found other things they needed. A few minutes after that, shortly after Shego finished exploring her immediate surroundings and was about ready to stomp off in search of her companion, the manager showed up. The scared-looking man simply set a covered tray on the table, then left. Shego had lifted the cover to discover a steaming steak dinner and a pitcher of iced tea. Deciding that the thick steak was for her and not seeing any reason to deny herself, she dug in.

Since she had a head start on her companion, she finished first. A suspicious person, she walked around the basement again, making sure nobody was listening to the two of them. She paused by the walk-in cooler; the refrigeration device held several cases of beer and wine and she was seriously tempted to self-medicate some of her tension away. Physically shaking her head, deciding that it wouldn't be wise to get tanked while trying to make a getaway, she continued her rounds. By the time she returned to the storeroom, Drakken was finishing his own meal.

His mouth still full of his dinner, he gestured for her to follow him, turning his hologram disguise back on.

Commands of this sort grated her nerves like sandpaper on a soap bubble, but Shego managed to keep her temper in check while he led her back outside. They grabbed a few items from the van before Drakken unlocked a back door to the hotel. This led into a three-room suite, with several Smarty-mart bags on each of the two beds.

"Go ahead and shower and change," he told her, turning his disguise back off. "I have a little internet research to do.

This was a set of instructions that Shego had no trouble following, at least once Drakken left the bedroom and set up his computer in the office area. Of course, she found herself rolling her eyes as she sorted through the clothing. While she couldn't complain about the styles; jeans, boots and nondescript shirts; even comfortable pajamas, did the man have no idea of sizes? Some of the clothing was for a woman six inches shorter and at least sixty pounds heavier than her! Another set was for a woman who was roughly her height...but considerably more petite. Still, there was one set that fit her well enough, so Shego hit the shower.

After spending probably more time than she really needed to under the warm water, a pastime that did a great deal to calm her jangled nerves, Shego met up with Drakken. She felt so much better that she even considered apologizing for her previous outburst; okay, she felt good enough to consider it, but not to actually do it. Still, when she opened the bedroom door and found him studying his screen, she was much more inclined to listen to him.

"The shower's available," she told him. "But I hope you were more accurate guessing your own clothing size than you were guessing mine."

"Oh?" He smiled. "I take it some of the clothing was for a short, dumpy woman while another set was for a fairly tall, slender one?"

"Yeah, what did you do, do it the shotgun method? Did you buy a bunch of sizes, hoping one would fit me?"

"DNAmy and Arena Lynn are on the loose." He told her, with a small, knowing smile. He stood and stretched, looking at her as if expecting an response.

"Okay, interesting bit of trivia...and completely irrelevant to both our situation and the fact the you can't guess proper sizes to save your life."

"Both of them know about this little facility," he replied, walking into the bedroom. " _If_ the authorities were to learn of the services this facility provides and _if_ they were to question the gopher that purchased the clothing, they wouldn't know if the clothes were for you, Lynn or Amy."

"Alright, but I can't picture Amy traveling with a male companion." She paused for a moment, "okay, I can't picture a male companion traveling with Amy, so if the authorities question the gopher, he'll tell 'em that he also bought men's clothing in your size. They'll be able to track us."

"That's why I had different gophers purchasing the men's and women's clothing," Drakken countered, going through the aforementioned bags. "Lucre's out there somewhere, as well. As for the men's clothing, _that_ errand boy bought clothing in my size, Lucre's size, and the right size to fit Lynn's cameraman. When we leave, all the spare clothing goes with us so if someone examines these rooms, they won't be able to deduce anything from the clothes."

"All kidding aside," Drakken was now very serious. "I don't think that any law enforcement agency knows that this little motel and inn caters to our sort. _If_ they were to learn and _if_ they were to grab either of the two errand boys they would be unable to tell exactly who passed through here. Like you suggested, I need a shower. I've taken the liberty of setting up my next video presentation on my laptop. You can either watch it or some television. I'd suggest not leaving this room, but I'm sure you're experienced enough to know the risks of wandering around when trying to stay under cover."

For several minutes after Drakken closed the door behind him, Shego could only stare at it, wondering just where this Drakken had been for the last several years. The Drakken she knew was a genius, sure enough; he could grasp physics and chemistry concepts with the best university professors. However, he never had any sort of attention to detail, the small issues always seemed to trip him up. This demonstration of thorough planning told her that he actually was some sort of double agent...or that this was a major set-up.

Breaking herself out of her reverie, Shego reviewed the television channel listing before switching between the 24 hour news channels. So far, their escape hadn't made the national news. Of course, she wasn't expecting anything useful but if the reporters didn't know that she and Drakken were on the loose, it was a fair bet that local law enforcement didn't. Leaving the television on but turning down the volume, she sat down at the desk and activated Drakken's next video presentation.

"Doctor Betty Director, reporting to the Secretary General of the United Nations and the Secretary General of Interpol," Doctor Director now looked familiar to Shego, as the one-eyed woman faced the camera recording the presentation. "I understand that my new agency is not under the oversight of Interpol but it is my opinion that since my agency must cooperate with Interpol, I should include the international police agency in all reports. I hope to establish cooperation with this, my first annual status report and maintain such cooperation with all subsequent reports."

" _So the cyclops isn't above brown-nosing_ ," Shego thought to herself, while the object of her critique reviewed some notes.

"In Global Justice's first year of operation," Betty continued. "We have established two strike teams to combat techno-villains. Currently, only one such team is super-powered; Team Go located in the United States. Our other team consists of highly trained normal humans, known as Team Impossible. We have equipped both teams with supersonic transportation, allowing them to respond to a threat anywhere in the world within hours. Beyond this, we have established regional offices worldwide, which collect and distribute data on all known techno-villains. These regional offices also collect data on potential recruits, searching for more enhanced humans to mold into potential heroes."

"I must report solid success in our efforts to combat techno-villains," she informed her unseen audience. "By Interpol's own figures, techno-villain crimes have dropped twelve percent since Global Justice has begun operation. I expect greater success in the next year, as establishing ourselves and our protocols has consumed a great deal of effort this year. With our infrastructure in place and our operating procedures established, we will be able to devote more of our efforts towards our purpose."

"Our secondary mission has been less successful," Betty admitted. "We have been unable to identify additional super-humans. However, I am able to report two developments with our potential, future operative, Kim Possible. First of all, she continues to operate as a freelance hero, thwarting several techno-villains' crimes. While a significant number of these have been false crimes, which I have had Mr. Lipsky execute, they have provided excellent development for the young heroine. In addition, a lifelong friend of hers, Mr. Ronald Stoppable, has continued to accompany her on her missions. I suspect that his friendship, combined with my insistence that she have as normal a life as possible, has done a great deal to keep her on course. She has shown none of the rebellion that Shego did at this point in her career."

"Great," the green-hued woman grumbled to the empty room. "Not only was I nothing more than a practice facility, now it turns out I was a guinea-pig, as well."

"The second development has to do with young Mr. Stoppable," the agent reported, breaking Shego free of her pity-fest. "He has been exposed to a potential super-powering effect known as the Mystical Monkey Power. While it sounds odd, I have taken the liberty of contacting law-enforcement officials within Japan. Not only have these officials assured me that the Mystical Monkey Power is real, they have assured me that it can, potentially, enhance Mr. Stoppable."

The agent paused; Shego didn't know if it was for dramatic effect or a result of...

"While I remain skeptical," Dr. Director continued, answering Shego's unspoken question. "and therefore have not included the boy on my list of enhanced humans, I accepted these Japanese officials' offers to interview a martial arts master who has significant knowledge about this influence. I now insert the relevant portion of this interview."

Dr. Director vanished, replaced by the image of an elderly, dignified oriental man with a flowing mustache and beard. While his mouth wasn't visible, his mustache was slightly quirked upwards, indicating a gentle smile.

"Greetings," the man spoke into the camera. "My title is Master Sensei. I must apologize for my lack of manners, but as my organization prefers anonymity, it shall remain unnamed. Also, as I understand the majority of the future audience will be fluent in English, I will use this language rather than my native Japanese."

"I wish any who may be listening to be aware that I consider certain aspects of the Mystical Monkey Power to be my organization's responsibility," the man continued, his eyes and face now taking on the aspect of an expert teaching a young student. "For this reason, I will only offer certain insights, which should be mutually beneficial to my organization and such law enforcement officials that Dr. Director, of Global Justice, sees fit to include."

"First," now his right index finger rose, counting a vital point. "While young Stoppable willingly exposed himself to the Mystical Monkey Power, and thus gained some small enhancement, the Mystical Monkey power chose him in return, manifesting more of itself through him."

"Secondly," another finger expressed the point. "The Mystical Monkey Power will enhance Mr. Stoppable's physical abilities, granting him enhanced speed , strength and stamina. While such enhancements will not be apparent in these early days of his association, they shall become more pronounced over time. The power must grow accustomed to Mr. Stoppable, in order to fully manifest itself through him."

"My third point," again, emphasized by another digit. "Is that the Mystical Monkey Power has not altered young Stoppable; it is an active power that manifests through him. Because of this, your science will not be able to detect any genetic alterations to explain his enhancements."

"Finally," the elder now dropped his hand. "Although it is my belief that Mr. Stoppable is destined to be a great master of the Mystical Power, he is not the ultimate manifestation of this power. Instead, he shall be the protector of and a significant influence upon the power's ultimate manifestation. I provide this last information so that Global Justice can assist my organization in its efforts to safeguard and influence both Mr. Stoppable and this future instrument."

"For the record," Dr. Director, appearing again, informed the camera. "Myself and Master Sensei have agreed that it is in our best interest to keep Mr. Stoppable assisting Miss Possible. While he seems willing to do so, I will monitor the situation and provide discreet encouragement, if needed. As I continue to be skeptical about both this unworldly power and the lack of genetic alteration, I obtained tissue samples from Mr. Stoppable and utilized Dr. Amy Hall to perform a genetic analysis."

Dr. Director vanished again, this time to be replaced by the image of DNAmy.

"According to Dr. Director," the dumpy woman sniffed. "I have to use layman's terms.. Understand that this report is now a bullet point statement, without the informative details a true geneticist requires."

"Anyway this subject...Subject six...does not have genetic enhancements but he does have a unique and useful genetic trait. While he will will not exhibit any enhancements, nor will he pass on enhancements to any children, his genes are almost custom made to accept those enhancements possessed by the Possible and Go children. I really wish that Dr. Director would reveal the subject's identity."

The dumpy woman smirked, "Dr. Director tried to conceal his gender but I was easily able to determine that he is a male. Anyway, should he father children with either Kim Possible or Shego, the children could have some very interesting enhanced traits."

"As you can see," Dr. Director once again appeared, taking the geneticist's place on the screen. "I am making every effort to keep Mr. Stoppable's potential enhancement confidential. Secrecy and confidentiality are going to be the bywords of Global Justice. I only wish I had learned this lesson when dealing with the Go Siblings. While we will directly confront techno-villains, we will work through a combination of a secret establishments and visible teams of heroes. The general public will remain ignorant of our existence, which will make it more difficult for the techno-villains to counter us. While we continue to search for enhanced humans, we will utilize intelligence and information to achieve our goals."

The screen faded out, only to display Drakken's face a moment later. From his clothing and the background, Shego realized that he had recorded this little snippet minutes ago, while she had been taking her shower.

"This was Dr. Director's _official_ report, Shego." He informed her. "But she maintained _private_ files in case she ever had to explain her actions. I had access to Global Justice's mainframe and managed to hack into these files. About a year ago she recorded this personal report."

"Doctor Director's private log," the trim woman, now sitting in an office, announced from the screen. "While I am satisfied with Global Justice's progress in infrastructure, training and operations, I remain concerned about our lack of enhanced recruits. As I continue to combat the techno-villains, results drive home the need to utilize either overwhelming force or enhanced human agents. When we apply normal...albeit well trained...agents, the casualties and collateral damage is unacceptable.

"It is not always possible to bring overwhelming force to bear," she continued. "Not only do the logistic requirements needed to support such overwhelming force act contrary to our efforts to remain discreet; multiple techno-villains acting at the same time could disperse our forces to an unacceptable degree. Therefore, I must locate and develop more enhanced humans."

"My best efforts have found no additional super-humans," she confessed. "So I must work under the assumption that enhanced humans are prohibitively rare. For this reason, I must investigate the possibility of creating them."

Shego's eyes flared wide at this revelation.

"Before anyone suspects that I am going to try to re-create the accidents that enhanced the current super-humans, rest easy. I am fully aware of the high danger and low possibility of successfully enhancing a normal human. Instead, it is my intention to encourage the existing enhanced humans to reproduce...by any means necessary. In the past, I have directed my subordinate, Dr. Drakken, to test two pieces of technology on both Shego and Kim Possible. These pieces of technology are known as the 'moodulator' and the 'compliance chip'."

"Again, before anyone concludes that I'm about to force either of these young women into an unwanted act, I say now that this is simply a precaution. I want to know if this technology will affect either of these young women in case I need to utilize 'additional encouragement' in order to compel them to take certain actions at an earlier date than they would have, anyway."

"What kind of justification is this?" Shego demanded. "She's gonna make me or Kimmie...?"

Before Shego could quiet her temper, she realized that she had missed Director's next statement. She reset the file and listened.

"I instructed Dr. Drakken to utilize his time spent testing the compliance chips to also test Mr. Stoppable's physical capabilities. These results turned out very interesting."

"In conclusion, Global Justice continues to combat the techno-villain, while making plans to enhance our abilities in the future. Dr. Director signing off."

For several minutes, Shego could only look at the black screen. She was only vaguely aware of the shower turning off and the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. She only regained complete awareness when the bedroom door opened, admitting a nervous, pajama-clad Drakken into the sitting room. Shego favored him with a scowl.

"From your expression, I assume you watched the video," he offered, while sitting in the other chair.

"You got that right," she snarled back, her anger once again flaring up.

"Okay, you put those compliance chips on me and Princess what, three years ago?" Shego started the interrogation that had been building up. "We got those moodulators on us last year. So you've known for that long that the cyclops was planning to use them to make me a mama and you didn't say anything?"

"Actually, no," Drakken showed no sign of being intimidated. "I didn't know what she had in mind for the chips...or for you."

"Three years ago, Dr. Director told me that she was concerned that you or Possible might become violent criminals," he explained. "She wanted to know if Bortel's compliance chips would actually affect the two of you."

"And what did you find out?" Shego demanded.

"That the revision of compliance chips that worked on the two of you weren't practical," he explained. "They are very obvious, expensive and have very short life. However, by having the two of you attack Stoppable, we were able to determine that this 'Mystical Monkey Power' was both real and formidable."

"What about the Buffoon?" Shego asked. "Kimmie and I were going all out after him. What if his special power wasn't all it was cracked up to be? We could have killed the kid!"

"I didn't know you were such a humanitarian," his sarcasm only increased her irritation.

"I'm not!" She snapped back. "But I don't want to kill some helpless kid!"

"You've made several such attempts upon Possible."

"She's in a different league...my league," Shego growled. "She's nowhere near as good and me but in the same league. The buffoon isn't! Wait a minute, you sent both of us after him!"

"Dr. Director demanded a life-or-death situation," Drakken informed her.

"And if we had killed him?"

"According to Dr. Director's verbal orders," Drakken answered, with his voice tightly controlled. "If he didn't survive, she would know that the Japanese had deceived her. If he survived, he would be worthy of development. And if I didn't do what she told me, she'd arrange for one of my experiments to have a fatal failure."

"Okay, you've just convinced me that that...bitch...is ruthless," Shego conceded. "But back to the original topic. You honestly didn't know that Betty was looking for a device that might make Kimmie or I..." Shego couldn't even bring herself to say what Drakken _could_ have instructed her to do.

"Not at all," he countered. "You must admit, the reason she gave me for testing the chips was logical."

"Maybe," she nodded. "But what about those damned moodulators?"

"When she informed me of these chips, she told me that we might need to affect your behavior in a more discreet manor. She wanted to know if these chips could do so."

"Discreet?" Shego didn't know if she should be amused or enraged. "Me chasing you like a love-struck groupie was discreet? Me carving our initials in the lair wall was discreet? Me plasma-blasting you was discreet?" She paused. "Okay, I've done that last one plenty of times over the years but the rest of it was hardly in character."

"Understood," he nodded. "Please note that we had the moodulators set to a high output. Had we turned them down, so to speak, things might have been a great deal less noticeable. It wasn't until late last year that I realized Dr. Director might use the moodulator to compel you towards..."

A vague waggling of his hands, rather than finishing the statement, told Shego that Drakken was every bit as uncomfortable about discussing the situation as she was.

"Okay, I'll admit that the chip had me chasing you like a jackrabbit in heat but I don't think it would have gone to the conclusion," she whispered. _Somebody_ had to come out and say it...sort of.

"You're not thinking long-term," he countered. Now that she had addressed the subject, he seemed capable of discussing it.

"I was hoping to wait until tomorrow to speak about this but the subject has come up and we might as well deal with it at this time. Last year, shortly after we concluded that the moodulators would be a viable, if underwhelming, method of influence, Dr. Director told me that the Pentagon had requested that she use Global Justice's resources to mimic a global attack."

"The Diablo Plot?" Shego interrupted.

"Exactly. After our defeat, Director told me that I would have to go through the motions of being tried and sentenced. She did, however, give me some limited access within the detention facility. Apparently, she wanted to throw me a bit of a bone to keep me from telling some uncomfortable truths." He offered a guilty smile. "I had used my previous access to Global Justice's database to provide me with some back doors, in case I needed them."

"Not exactly the model agent, are you?" She smirked, actually feeling a bit of admiration.

"Honor among thieves, Shego. Anyway, I used these back doors to find out that Dr. Director had commissioned Bortel to re-engineer his moodulators, making them lower powered but longer lasting and small enough to be injected into a subject. I was unable to find out more about her plans for the moodulators but I was able to find out that she had also made arrangements for the Middleton Space Center to make use of your talents, on a probationary status, to test certain aspects of the Kepler Spacecraft."

"How was she gonna do that?" Shego wondered. "I mean, I'm a darn good pilot but they've gotta have a lot of pilots that are every bit as good as me and a whole lot more reliable."

"I suspect that she was going to point out that your enhanced physique allows you to withstand stresses that these other pilots simply couldn't," Drakken shrugged. "From either an engineering or financial standpoint, it is a strong cover story. Allow the prisoner, who can handle both gravitational and other stresses that valuable pilots cannot, to perform the tests. If there's some sort of failure, she was expendable anyway."

"Okay, that would work for a cover story," Shego nodded. "But why put me in the program in the first place?"

"I also learned that Dr. Director arranged to have both Dr. Possibles injected with these low-yield, long-lasting chips, as well."

"Sounds creepy, but I'm not connecting any dots here."

"Dr. James Possible is one of the comet affected. Remember that Amy stated that it could be interesting if the Possibles and Gos were to mix DNA?"

"So she thought she could put me and Mr. Cleaver together and we'd get busy? I'm not about to do that and I don't think he is, either."

"Follow along," now, he was a lecturing professor but she found she didn't mind. "Bear in mind, this is speculation. Utilize the moodulators but be subtle."

One blue finger went up, mimicking Sensei's earlier method of keeping track of points, "What happens if shortly after you start assisting at the space center, whenever Dr. James Possible is near his lovely wife, he feels just a little bit irritable?"

Another finger went up, telling her not to answer just yet, "What if the same happens to Dr. Anne Possible? She starts feeling irritable whenever she's near her doting husband?"

Drakken's glance her way prompted her to answer, "Their marriage could be in trouble, I guess. I'm not much on the whole relationship thing."

"Fair enough," now a third finger rose into the air. "Now, whenever Dr. James is near the capable and alluring super-villain, Shego, he feels just a little optimistic and cheerful?"

Another finger pointed to the sky, "what happens if the super-villain feels the same way, irritable and combative whenever away from Dr. Possible, but optimistic and cheerful when she's around him?"

"Finally," now his hands dropped to his sides. "What happens if all of those feelings get slightly stronger as time goes by?

Drakken lowered his head as if waiting his execution but Shego could neither answer nor really feel angry at him. His scenario was simplistic; really only the outline of a plan...but it could have worked.

She remembered her time influenced by the moodulator; how Drakken seemed so incredibly irresistible. However, even in the midst of that intense desire, she wasn't about to do more than act like a schoolgirl with a crush. It wasn't that she was prudish; she had learned to look at physical desires as one of her body's needs to be addressed. When she was hungry, she ate good food. When she was sick or injured, she visited a competent doctor. When she felt that particular urge, she found someone to help her take care of it...simple, straightforward and no potential complications. Doing...that...with her employer could have complicated things.

But what if it hadn't been sudden? What if that desire had started small and slowly grown over time? The answer was obvious...given enough time she could have wound up in bed with Drakken.

Now, substitute the good Dr. Possible for the mad scientist. While he hadn't exactly made her catch her breath the few times Shego had seen the guy, she admitted that he wasn't repelling by any stretch. Now make use of unlimited time and the moodulators and a clever manipulator-and Shego had no doubt that Dr. Director was a clever, ruthless bitch-as well as the adrenaline rush of operating an experimental spacecraft...

"So this is the dark plan?" She finally managed to ask.

"Like I said, I'm speculating," he replied, his voice appropriately gentle. "I still have some proof and details I wish to share but yes, these are my suspicions. However, it's getting late, I'm exhausted and I suspect that you are, as well. I need some sleep."

"Same here," she admitted. "But shouldn't one of us stay up?"

"We're as safe here as anyplace outside of one of my established safe-houses," he answered. "If you want to stay up, feel free. Myself, I'm resting while I can."

With that, the blue villain got up, walked into the bedroom and climbed into one of the beds.

Shego sat where she was for almost an hour, thinking dark thoughts. Finally, she ran through the television channels one last time; no news of the escape on either the national or local media. Finally, her mind still on a dark path, she climbed into the other bed.

* * *

A/N:

Again, and as always, my thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his beta assistance.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

"Shego."

The whisper sounded somewhere all around the green-hued woman's mind, yet she wasn't able to place it. Life had become a confused jumble of images; experimental spacecraft, giant robots, a redheaded teenager with fearsome martial arts abilities and a blue-skinned scientist were some of the images, but a red-headed woman with one eye seemed to be watching it all, laughing.

"Shego."

The whisper was a little louder now, and the jumble of images started to shift, as if they were becoming organized. The red-headed woman didn't seem pleased with this development.

"Shego!"

Shego snapped awake to see Drakken standing just out of her reach. Leaping to her feet, sending blankets flying around the room, she realized that she was in the hideaway hotel room before the bedding found its way to the floor.

"We're going to have to move soon," Drakken told her.

"They're on to us?" She gasped, looking for the street clothing Drakken had provided, yesterday.

"No, I don't think so," he murmured in response. "I've scheduled out our next step to take advantage of certain events. We'll have to start moving in the next half-hour."

Shego now noticed that the clock showed 4:30 AM. She was about to complain...forcibly...about waking her up at this time; but she realized that he was just being practical.

"Okay, what is the next step?" She asked, gathering up her clothes.

"We'll have ample time to talk, on the road," he told her, walking to the window and peeling the blinds back just a sliver. "However, I want you to look at the three minivans parked in a row and pick one out, at random."

Looking out of the window, being careful not to pull the blinds open any farther, she quickly spotted the vehicles he was referring to. "The blue one, on the right," she said.

"Okay, that's our next vehicle," he told her, letting the blind fall back into place. "I have some preparations to make, so I'll leave you to get ready. Please don't leave the building until I come back."

Before Shego could say anything, her companion activated his hologram disguise and slipped out of the room, leaving the door to swing shut and lock behind him. Shaking her head, Shego stirred herself to get her day started.

It wasn't easy. She had tossed in bed until well after midnight, unable to turn her thoughts off and get to sleep. When she finally did sleep, the bad dreams...they weren't vivid enough to call them nightmares...had made the slumber anything but restful. Who could she trust? While Drakken's arguments seemed valid, he could still be working for Global Justice or even manipulating her, for his own purposes. Still, he was accompanying her; putting himself where she could get her hands on him, so she was inclined to trust him...for now.

Tired as she was, she was still a professional. Within fifteen minutes, well before Drakken returned to the door, Shego was dressed, had her possessions packed and was scrolling through the television channels while the complimentary coffee maker brewed some much-needed caffeine. Along with clothing, Drakken had provided a fake tan spray; so at least she had a little bit of a disguise for today's travel. A quiet tap on the door warned her that her companion was about to enter just before the door opened, letting him inside.

"Anything on the news?" He asked her, noticing that she had the television on.

"Nothing about our escape," she admitted. "There was something interesting on one of the gossip channels. It seems Miss Kimmie and the Buffoon are a bit of an item now. One of the groupie stations showed the two of them holding hands and sneaking kisses when they didn't think anyone was watching. It was so sweet I nearly tossed my cookies." She emphasized this last statement by pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"Well, it looks like one of Dr. Director's plans is working," he grumbled, claiming the rest of the coffee.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked. "Is the cyclops doing the same thing to the princess that you were saying she was going to do to me?"

"I can't be sure," he replied, absently, while quickly stuffing his possessions into a bag. "Like I said earlier, we'll have plenty of time to discuss things on the road."

Shego couldn't argue with the logic, so she kept out of his way while he loaded up everything that the staff had left for them, the day before. Minutes later, the two of them gulped the last of the coffee and left.

Drakken had backed the van to the door while outside, so they only had a few steps to walk before hoping in the vehicle. It actually felt good to sit in the passenger seat, rather than the back. Since her companion told her that the day's travel would be long, she decided to save the video for later. Instead, she watched the surroundings as her companion stopped at a gas station and filled the tank. He disposed of some of the 'decoy' clothing in the station's trash can.

"Okay, what sort of schedule are we following that put us on the road this early?" She was actually more curious than angry.

"The staff at that gas station empties the garbage cans every morning at 5:30," he explained. "A garbage truck will show up at six to empty the dumpster. While I don't think the authorities know that the hotel is a safe haven, I don't want to leave any sort of a trail to follow."

"Okay, but what about stealing this van?" She asked. "Won't that get reported?"

"It isn't stolen," he told her. "Think of it as a 'loaner'. We criminals who utilize that facility have an understanding; we exchange vehicles. That way, if the FBI or the US Marshals think they're tracking me, they might be actually following Dementor or Aviarius."

"Okay, genius," she teased a little. "If you weren't hot-wiring this vehicle, what were you doing while you were outside?"

"First, I was scanning it for any transmitters," he told her. "I'm certain there's no active transmitters on the vehicle but I can't detect responders."

"What?"

"Bugs that don't transmit all the time," he answered. "They listen for a signal, then respond. The second thing I was doing was installing my shield. It will block all electromagnetic transmissions either incoming or outgoing. I'm afraid you won't be able to listen to the radio."

"So your conversation better be sparkling," she snorted in return. Her eyes suddenly shot wide, "wait a minute! Speaking of bugs, what if Global Justice put tracking chips in us?"

"Shego, have you noticed that ever since we left prison, and with a very few, momentary exceptions, you've either been underground, close to me, or in facilities I trust?"

"What's that got to do with it?"

"My hideaway in Middleton was shielded," he told her. "And my holographic disguise also emits a limited range shield. My original van was shielded, as is this vehicle, now."

"I take it that last night's hotel was shielded?"

"Dementor installed it," he grumbled. "Effective, but too obvious. If the FBI or Global Justice had come by with a simple receiver, they would have known a jammer was active. I altered it to make the electromagnetic signature mimic poorly grounded florescent light ballasts."

"Okay, now that you've had your ego trip, when can we get a shield for me?"

"We should reach our destination shortly after nightfall," he answered. "While I'll be able to make a personal shield for you, we should be able to come up with a better solution."

Shego was tempted to ask him what sort of a solution he had in mind, but decided that she really didn't feel like an overly technical lecture at this time of the morning and under these circumstances.

"When do we get breakfast?" She asked instead. She _was_ getting peckish.

"There's a drive-through fifteen minutes down the road," answered. "We'll get rid of our prison garments there...about half an hour before the staff empties their trash and a couple of hours before the dumpsters are emptied."

"Why drop off the clothes at all?" She asked. "If they're bugged, Global Justice or the FBI will pick up the signal once they're out of the van."

"Which is marginally less risky than keeping them with us," he countered. "They might have responder chips in-bedded in the fibers...perhaps on a frequency I'm not shielding against."

"You're the expert," she decided. Granted, it sounded logical but she wasn't about to admit as much to him.

Despite the fact that she wasn't looking forward to consuming the product of the fast food industry interacting with eggs, cheese and bread-like substances, she had to admit that the drive-through was a good idea. It kept them in the shielded van. She hoped that her companion had plans for other needs during the day.

Breakfast turned out to be as unsatisfying as she expected...but at least it was something to eat. It also kept her occupied for several minutes, as her companion steered the van off of the main interstate and onto a less-traveled route, heading north. She gave Drakken a few minutes to finish his meal before deciding that he might as well talk while driving.

"Alright," she broke the post-meal silence. "I could start the last video, but I'd like something a little more interactive, like you answering direct questions."

"Shure," he nodded. "The passing scenery isn't exactly mesmerizing, so ask away."

Shego took a moment to collect her thoughts. Drakken was right, the scenery wasn't her idea of...scenic. While the Rockies were faintly visible, far off to the west, the immediate surroundings were dry foothills.

"Okay," she finally decided. "Just what all were you trying to accomplish with the entire Diablo Plot?"

"Several things," Drakken answered. "I can only tell you what I know; what Dr. Director told me she wanted me to do."

The blue man, hidden in his hologram, thought for a few minutes before continuing.

"I guess you could say that it started somewhere between two and three years ago," he finally began. "I had just finalized my plans for the synthodrones. Dr. Director informed me that both Global Justice and NASA were interested in their capability, so she ordered me to start limited production."

"I remember that," Shego interrupted. "You were madder than a wet hornet when the first...what was it...18 were bad out of the mold."

"Every new development has setbacks," he countered, although his expression showed a little triumph. "Anyway, NASA was interested in a humanoid, thinking robotic instrument that could operate in hostile environments while Global Justice was interested in using them against my fellow techno-villains, something to operate as cannon fodder, so to speak."

"So it was a cost/benefit sort of thing?"

"To a certain extent," he admitted. "My standard drones can be equipped with great strength, agility and stamina. Unfortunately, they have about the deductive ability of a seven year old child."

"I remember that, as well," Shego told him.

"However, those same drones are capable of being directly controlled by a remote operator. While the typical drone couldn't even decide when to perform first aid on a human, much less how; put that same drone under the direct control of a master surgeon, even thousands of miles away, and it could perform neurosurgery. While I considered the drones to be an excellent invention, Dr. Director wanted more. She wanted to increase the drones autonomous deductive abilities."

"Synthodrone 901!" Shego deduced.

"Exactly," Drakken agreed. "But he was only the initial test and Dr. Director wanted to test multiple capabilities with a single operation. First, like you learned earlier, Global Justice cooperated with the Pentagon to have me simulate a worldwide invasion. In order to do this, I needed to keep Kim Possible distracted while I allocated and utilized my resources."

Just before Shego could ask how much of the plot was his and how much was marching orders from Dr. Director, he continued.

"Dr. Director told me she suspected a certain, suppressed romantic interest between Possible and the Buffoon. To this end, she instructed me to enhance a synthodrone to take the persona of a handsome, charming young man. This would distract Possible from my larger operation, prove that a synthodrone could pass as human and prompt the Buffoon into admitting his feelings."

Drakken frowned, "I should be satisfied for accomplishing all of the goals but to be honest, I only feel used."

"Okay, time out here!" Shego interrupted. "Are you telling me that the whole worldwide invasion thing was a giant dating gimmick to get Princess and her toad together?"

"That was only _one_ of the goals," Drakken stressed. "First, the world's military and law enforcement agencies learned that they were in no way prepared for a massive, sneak attack."

"Isn't that the definition of a sneak attack?" Shego smirked. "An attack that nobody is prepared for?"

"Fine, wise-mouth!" Drakken rolled his eyes in annoyance. "The world's military and law enforcement agencies were in no way prepared to react. Happy now?"

"It's better; but keep telling your story."

"We also gained valuable data about utilizing enhanced synthodrones," he continued. "You wouldn't believe how many times we had to correct major and minor breakdowns!"

"Erik seemed rather refined to me," Shego commented.

"You only saw the last few weeks of operation," Drakken shook his head. "Synthodrone 901 would have been more accurately labeled Synthodrone 929! Developing artificial intelligence that operated inside a synthodrone's body, programming the intelligence for real world operations! Even when I finally got the production figured out, the quality control was a nightmare!"

"But you made it work in the end."

"Hardly!" The driver snorted. "Producing Synthodrone 901 burned through all the profits I had saved during years of selling inventions to Henchco. No Shego, human-mimicking synthodrones continue to be prohibitively expensive, short-lived and prone to faults. It also takes months of intense labor to make one capable of performing said task for even a few months."

"Okay, so Erik was an experiment that proved he wasn't worth the effort and the world wasn't ready for an attack," Shego tried to sound bored, but she was actually interested. "What would have happened if Possible hadn't shut down the tower?"

"Oh, I would have made sure that a technical glitch would have shut down the robots."

"Why? If you had world domination, why would you have kept following orders?"

"Because when Dr. Director was still Agent Director, when she first coerced me to work for her, she implemented a safeguard," Drakken snapped at her.

"Which was?"

"She had an ingenious device implanted in my body," he answered, the hatred obvious in his voice. "If I don't play ball, the device releases poison, killing me within seconds."

"God you're an idiot," she rolled her eyes. "Okay, Betts is a lot more ruthless than I thought but you built a signal shield while in prison! Why didn't you have a shield ready when you activated your robots?"

"A shield won't do me any good," he snarled in return. "The device doesn't release the poison in response to a signal; it releases the poison when it fails to receive a signal."

"So why aren't you dead now? If the cyclops is as ruthless as you claim, she must have turned off the signal by now."

"I managed to isolate and copy the signal that's holding the poison at bay," he answered. "But I only managed to do so _after_ the Diablo operation came to an end. Global Justice changes to a new signal every few months, in an effort to keep me from learning it. The hologram emitter I used in prison and my holographic disguise also emit this signal, even when they're turned off."

"Unfortunately," he continued, holding up a hand to prevent her interruption. "I have a couple of things going against me. First, the technicians that created the insert equipped it with an anti-handling device. I think that I can defeat it but considering that I'll have only once chance to do it, for real, I can't really be sure, can I?"

"Secondly, it has a limited battery life. And before you ask, yes, the insert must actively keep the poison from escaping. Loss of power means loss of containment. Every six weeks, I'd have to go to a Global Justice medical facility so one of their damned technicians could replace the cursed thing."

"So how long..." Shego couldn't bring herself to finish the question.

"I have at least five more days," he grumbled.

"So why didn't you wait five days before breaking out?" Shego shook her head at his idiocy. "You could have had six weeks to come up with a plan for the thing!"

"I have my reasons," he told her, his voice icy. "And I've had my fill of talk for the moment."

Shego took the hint and decided to pay some attention to the world passing by. However, this wasn't very productive as the term 'miles and miles of miles and miles' described the local terrain. Not that she was the type who liked to admire scenery anyway, but scrub land wasn't much to look at. Okay, the Rockies were faintly visible, off to the left, but that forced her to look towards Drakken.

"Maybe this is a good time to watch one of your video presentations," she offered.

"To be honest, between our conversations last night and this morning, we have covered everything in the clip I had prepared," he looked a little tweaked. "And I haven't prepared my last."

"Okay, lets talk for a minute about this escape," she suggested, having a sudden moment of insight. "Everything you've done seems prepared; the hologram emitter in prison, your vehicles and safe refuges. But you're acting hasty, like you were getting ready for this break but you did it before you were completely ready. Am I right?"

"Yes," he admitted.

"Okay, what made you jump?"

"I didn't think I had five more days," it was Drakken's turn to sigh, "Why don't I let you dig through the evidence?" He suggested, handing her a flash drive. "Use the on-board computer to sort through the files on this drive. I suggest you look through Dr. Director's correspondence and read them in chronological order. I haven't had a chance to filter out the irrelevant messages, so we'll probably have to discuss the whole thing when you get done."

Shego didn't reply, she simply took the offered device, plugged it into the computer and started digging through the correspondence.

The head of a global organization, even one as covert as Global Justice, generated a great deal of correspondence. The fact that Drakken had managed to copy both her official and personal written communications meant that Shego had a great deal of information to sort through. Strangely enough for someone as action-oriented as her, she quickly found herself completely immersed in her task. She created a dedicated file and made copies of those messages she thought were vital. When she looked up from her task, she noticed that several hours had gone by.

"So it looks like the 'ol cyclops was trying to tempt someone to try to break you out," she said, as a means of letting her companion know that she was finished.

"You missed some vital details," he countered. "Don't get upset, I had several days to go through these files and come to my own conclusions."

"Okay, tell me what you think she's up to," Shego didn't feel upset that he had criticized her ability to determine Dr. Director's plans.

"Let's start with the first correspondence on the drive," Drakken instructed.

"I didn't consider that a vital one," Shego admitted. "I thought that it was pretty standard; Global Justice sent designs of most techno-villains' equipment to almost every one of the world's military forces."

"I'd like to note that she included my cousin's robot in this list."

"He's a known villain," she countered. "So it makes sense."

"Look at the notes included with the plans."

"Okay, it suggests a point to target," she shrugged, reviewing the note.

"Where?" He sounded a little more aggravated.

"The upper torso of the machine," she noted. "Hey, that's the crew and passenger compartment!"

"Exactly," one of his hands left the steering wheel to point a finger into the air. "Not the very delicate transmission; not the engine or fuel compartments, the only point on the vehicle where people can ride."

"I don't know if that's sinister or effective,' she countered.

"Now look at her correspondence with her head of ordinance."

"Sent the same day that she sent the memo to the world's military forces. She says she's concerned with the reliability of the guards' standard issue pulse emitters and she wants assault rifles issued until such problems are resolved."

"Assault rifles," he pointed out. "Without the taser settings that the pulse emitters posses."

"Sounds pretty routine," she shrugged. "And I have known those emitters to malfunction on occasion."

"Now look at the request she sent to the President."

"That one was dated over a week after the first," she replied. "So I didn't connect the two. She says that she's concerned that one of the other techno-villains might have penetrated her secrecy and she wanted some additional security for the holding facility we were at."

"And the reply?"

"The Pentagon detached a battalion task force to deploy around the facility," she noted. "But it hadn't arrived yet when we made our escape."

"Okay, now we get away from Dr. Director's correspondence. See if you can find a couple of my messages in the files."

"I was wondering about those," Shego admitted. "Why did you send a message to Jack Hench, through the Global Justice mainframe, offering to work for anyone for two years, no questions asked, if they would break you out? Why did you try to contact your cousin and tell him you were being beaten? Didn't you think the GJ people would review their own files and find out you had access to areas you shouldn't?"

"I didn't send them," he informed her, in an icy voice. "I have no doubt that Dr. Director used some of my less-secure accounts to make them in my name, so they'd seem to come from me."

"Something seems fishy here," she told him. "But I'm not making all the connections."

"She arranges to have her guards armed with lethal weapons, with no ability to use less than lethal capability," he snapped. "Then she tells the world's armies that they should target the passenger compartment on Eddy's robot. Then she arranges for a heavy military force, with tanks and anti-tank missiles, to be present and alert at the prison. _Then_ she lets the world's foremost criminal supply organization know that I'm willing to work for anybody who'll break me out of prison. Finally, she lets Eddy know that I'm being tortured in prison."

"So she wanted someone to hire Ed to break you out," Shego's eyes were wide. " _And_ make sure Ed had motivation to do so, while setting up heavy weaponry to target anyone operating his robot?"

"My last piece of evidence is correspondence from an individual known as Gadget," Drakken growled. "Gadget is a manufacturer, similar to me, controlled by Global Justice. He has some minor access to the GJ mainframe. I don't know if this message is genuine or faked."

"It tells Jack Hench where your cell is located in the facility."

"So Eddy knows I'm being tortured," Drakken told her. "Even if he doesn't think I'm worth breaking out, it's only a matter of time before someone...Aviarius, the Mathter, even Falsetto Jones, decides my services are worth the cost of hiring Eddy to do so. Eddy knows exactly where to go, so he has a good chance of breaking _in_ before the soldiers can react. However, they'll be ready and targeting the passenger compartment when he's trying to get away."

"And even if he doesn't break you out," Shego concluded. "All of the guards have been documented as being equipped with assault rifles, rather than non-lethal weapons, for a legitimate reason."

"This shows I know too much," Drakken hissed. "And I've probably outlived my usefulness."

"But murder? Isn't that going a little too far..." Shego stopped, remembering that Dr. Director had ordered Drakken to set her and Possible after Stoppable.

"I see you've worked things out."

"Damn." There didn't seem to be much else to say.

The van continued to roll, with neither occupant feeling like speaking for the next couple of hours.

"So what's your plan?" Shego finally asked, shortly after Colorado gave way to Wyoming.

"I have a lair, which I believe is secure, a few more hours away," he told her. "It has the facilities needed for me to attempt to remove the insert from my body. If I am successful, I'll make future plans at that time. If not..." he let the statement hang.

"If not, I'm on my own and I don't know who I can trust!" She snapped right back. "I don't even know if I can trust you! This could all be some elaborate set up! Heck, Dr. Director might have set these clues up for you to work out! She could be using you right now!"

"I'm perfectly aware of this!" He retorted. "But I can't take any chances."

"But what about me if your attempt fails?"

"I tell you what," he said, now wearily. "When we get to my lair and before I make my attempt, I'll provide you with the location of every lair and safe-house I've managed to establish, as well as the degree to which I believe each is secure. I'll also provide you with the name and contact information of every underworld contact I have ever dealt with, as well as how secure I think each of them happens to be."

"How do I know that the lists will be legit?"

"You don't."

"Okay, that's honest enough," she nodded.

"Shego, you have no reason to believe any of this, but I'm tired of playing by that woman's rules. I'm going to meet my fate on my own terms. I'll do my best for you in case I fail, but I can't promise you anything."

"I really can't expect anything more," she admited.

The rest of the trip was made in a nervous, contemplative silence, hardly improved by the growing darkness outside the vehicle.

* * *

A/N: As always, my thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his continued beta efforts.


	5. Chapter 5

Shego woke to an unfamiliar room. For a few, endless moments, she used the weak sunlight that leaked around the edges of a set of dusty blinds to examine her surroundings. She was in another sparsely-furnished room, in a sleeping bag on a mattress. She had barely enough time to note a small closet and a dresser before a knock drew her attention to the only closed door.

With that, her memories reasserted themselves. She and Drakken had arrived at this safe house; tucked in the Wind River Mountains; two hours away from the nearest settlement she could even call a town, well after dark the night before. The two had been so exhausted that they weren't even up to unpacking the bedding stored in the house; choosing to unpack sleeping bags and get some sleep. She even realized that she had woken up due to Drakken's first knock, and his second knock had kicked her brain into some semblance of operation.

"I'm up, Dr. D," she called out, hopefully forestalling either a third knock or a barge into her room. "Is there trouble?"

"Not at all," his voice was muffled by the door. "We have a long day, and decisions to make. I've taken the liberty of starting breakfast and making the house a little more livable."

"Define more livable."

"The furnace is lit and running, the water and electricity are on and the water heater is just waiting for someone to take a shower."

"I'm moving!"

Damn, that man knew her too well! Shego couldn't keep the grin off of her face as she rooted through her small bag of possessions, picking out a change of clothing. This high up in the mountains, late spring nights were cold; well below freezing. Because of this, the empty house had been winterized...which meant that the heat was off and all water drained from the pipes. Now that she was actually awake, she noted the distinct, scorched-dust smell of a newly lit furnace and the fact that her room was considerably warmer than it had been last night.

The house was small, so she was able to find the bathroom without much trouble. Once there, she noted that Drakken had set out several large, soft towels in front of a heating vent. The thought of stepping out of the shower to a warm towel made her smile again. She might actually be nice to him today! Then she spotted the array of soaps and other toiletries he had provided; strictly utilitarian. Okay, it was back to being snarky...maybe.

Still, after the shower cleared her head and the warm towels did their magic to her body, she was feeling pretty good again. Deciding that the quality of the breakfast he provided would determine her mood, she got dressed and headed for the kitchen to let Drakken determine his fate for the day.

The food that Drakken provided wasn't the best. Still, the results of such food interacting with the preservation industry were better than yesterday's results of food meeting the fast food industry. Shego managed two helpings and dialed up a bit of good humor, even helping Drakken out by drying the dishes after he washed them. With the domestic chores taken care of, it was time to deal with their real issues. Drakken wasted no time.

"I suggest you put on a heavy coat," he told her. "The first part of today's journey could be just a little chilly."

"Where are we going?" She asked, finding her parka.

"Just up the hill to a storage shed the previous owner built," he told her, leading the way outside and uphill. "I suggest you keep rather close to me, as I have my shield active."

"Okay, I'm guessing your storage shed isn't what it seems," she replied, taking her place on his right shoulder.

"Oh, there's nothing special about the shed," he corrected her. "In fact, it's rather crude. Let me tell you something about this area, however."

Shego found she didn't mind listening. The walk up the mountainside was actually pleasant, if cold. The high altitude provided a breathtaking vista.

"You see, back in the 1800's a small group of prospectors decided to try their luck on the other side of this ridge line," he gestured at the broad slope they were ascending. "Records don't show what they were hoping to find, or why they thought they would find it there. Perhaps they saw a granite mountainside and decided that there had to be _some_ valuable minerals to be found. So they blasted and dug a test shaft."

"Anyway, they didn't find anything...or at least, not enough of anything to warrant continuing to look, so they packed up and went somewhere else." By this time, the duo had reached the storage shed.

The shed proved to be even cruder than Drakken had suggested; it was only a rickety door, mounted on a rickety wall, built over a roughly cut hollow in the mountainside. There wasn't even a lock; just a sliding piece of wood wedging the door shut.

Drakken stopped and turned around, spending several minutes staring at the impressive vista of open mountains spread before him. He took a deep breath and smiled a sad smile before turning back to the shed.

"Of course, this left an open test shaft, as nobody filled in abandoned mines in those days," he continued his lecture as he opened the door. "By the time the Bureau of Land Management decided to do something about this potentially dangerous hole, a couple of endangered species of bats had started to live in it."

Drakken pulled a flashlight out of his coat and turned it on, revealing a small, dust covered tractor, several dusty barrels and irregular, tarp-covered objects in the somewhat sheltered space. He picked a path through the equipment, towards the back of the hollow.

"Now the federal government really didn't want to go through the expense of filling in the shaft," he led the way deeper into the mountainside. "So they decided to make sure no idiots were inside, then they installed a stout security grate, leaving the poor little bats with a safe place to roost."

The back of the small shelter was just high enough for a fairly tall man, like Drakken, to stand next to the vertical stone wall of the mountain. Drakken rapped on the stone with his flashlight, then stepped back. The sound of grating stone could be heard on the other side of the rock face.

"Of course, a couple of park rangers or other caretakers check the grate, every now and then," he informed her as the two watched the stone start to shift. "But since there isn't really anything of any great interest in the area, they only hike up to the grate and check it. They only look inside; they don't actually enter the old test shaft. This means that if someone...or something...were to carefully excavate and disguise another entrance to the old test shaft, those officials would have no way of knowing that the lower reaches of the shaft were being utilized."

Several blocks of stone, which composed the face they were observing, were pulled into the mountainside. Large, crude hands emerged from the dark interior and removed still more stone until a narrow walkway was opened. Finally, a synthodrone stepped out of the pitch black and into the dim illumination of Drakken's flashlight.

"Ah, sythodrone number eight," Drakken greeted his creation. "Excellent job! Be a good fellow and instruct your cohorts to activate the support systems in the lair and to open the other end of the walkway."

The faceless humanoid punched several buttons on an over sized keypad, which was mounted just inside the now exposed shaft. A red light flashed on the keypad several times before a green light came on.

"Excellent!" Drakken declared. "Any harmful gasses have been vented out of the walkway and lair and synthodrone number seven will have the other end of the walkway open by the time we get there. Synthodrone number eight, be a fine lad; close the walkway up after we pass, then return to your maintenance duties." The construct nodded its compliance as Drakken handed Shego a spare flashlight and led the way into the narrow, dark walkway.

"What's this with sythodrone seven and eight?" She asked his back, since the walkway was only wide enough for single file travel. "I read your personal report; you said that the first eighteen were bad out of the mold."

"They were," she couldn't see his face, but she could feel the smirk in his voice. "While the first six were completely non-functional, the next twelve have flaws. Number eight's left arm is four centimeters longer than his right. I could hardly present him, or the other twelve synthodrones with similar flaws, to a perfectionist such as Dr. Director, could I?"

"But your report said that you had disposed of them."

"Disposed of...sent to an abandoned mine too construct a secret lair...it's so easy to get the two actions confused."

"Ya know doc," Shego drawled, shaking her head in honest admiration. "I think there might be hope for you, after all."

"So kind of you to say so."

"Okay, but let's talk a little about your attention to detail," she decided. "If I understand your story, we're going to walk through the ridge, so we should have a little time to chat."

"You're correct, so ask away."

"How certain are you that this place is secure?" She asked. "After all, if a dozen 'drones have been working here for two years, they must be making an awful lot of noise. All it would take is one adventurous hiker wandering by the opening at the wrong time to hear something they shouldn't."

"All thought out," again, she could hear his self-satisfied tone. "I started out slowly, with most of the synthodrones keeping watch, outside. All work was halted whenever anyone ventured too close."

"Clearing out additional space generated a great deal of loose stone," he declared, raising a finger to make his point. "But I had a plan! The original test shaft punched two hundred yards into the mountainside. The synthodrones used the loose rock to block off the shaft halfway down, creating a fake cave-in. They created two partial blockages, between the entrance and the complete blockage. If anyone were to enter the original shaft, they will spot the first rubble pile and conclude that the tunnel is in danger of collapsing. If they were to become bold and push farther, the second pile will reinforce the message and the complete blockage will tell them that the tunnel is collapsed, and there's nothing worth exploring."

"But that's not all!" He crowed, enjoying the chance to praise himself. "The drones created a second tunnel to my lair, three hundred yards away and around an outcrop from the original entrance. This entrance is continually blocked with rubble, making it look like loose rock on the mountainside."

"So they haven't been using _this_ passage?" Shego gestured towards the walls, forgetting that he couldn't see her.

"Nope," he answered, understanding her question. "All equipment has been hauled in through that second entrance. Whenever I've obtained equipment to be installed in the lair, I've had it shipped to a storage facility at a nearby town. Every time I collected enough equipment to justify opening the secret entrance, I had the lads haul it in during inclement weather. No Shego, I've taken extreme measures to keep things secret."

"Okay, there's probably a lot of questions about mining techniques and other technical matters," she admitted. "But I'm really not interested in hearing about 'em. Let me just ask this; if your _lads_ have the cognitive ability of a seven year old, how did they manage to install any of this equipment?"

"Remember, these lads can perform intricate tasks if under an expert's direct control." He informed her.

"And who's the expert?"

"Me." The statement sounded suitably smug.

"Feel the top of the passage," Drakken continued. "You'll find a single piece of coax along the ceiling. Every time I needed to issue specific instructions or obtain feedback or status reports, I did so via an encrypted signal, using an antenna in the storage shed."

"What sorts of equipment are we talking about?"

"You'll see...ah! Here we are!"

Bright light filtered between Drakken's body and the passage's walls. Moments later, the two stepped out of the passage and into a well-lit opening, where another synthodrone waited by a pile of ruble.

"Good lad, synthodrone seven," Drakken addressed the construct. "Now, back into the passage, seal it up and continue your maintenance duties."

The burly synthodrone did as ordered, stepping back into the passage and piling the stones up, forming a cleverly disguised wall.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Drakken told his fellow fugitive, sweeping his arms in a grandiose gesture.

"You got the humble part down," Shego drawled in return, looking pointedly at the small, bare circular room.

"This is just the vestibule," Drakken smiled back. "And still a work in progress. How many doors do you see?"

"The one that 'ol number seven is sealing back up," Shego told him. "And one other one."

"That's all you're supposed to see," he gushed. "There are actually two more disguised doorways. One leads to the original shaft and the other to the second entrance. I've disguised all doorways on both sides, just in case someone should stumble their way in here. Anyway, lets look around. I've never been here before and I'm eager to see how close the video I've seen matches reality."

"Lead away," Shego told him, rolling her eyes.

"Excellent!" He said, heading towards the one visible doorway. "This is the security point, where my lads will greet invited guests and detain uninvited guests. Hello synthodrones!"

Four synthodrones snapped to attention as Drakken entered the room. Shego noted that the wall was covered with screens, showing what she assumed to be different sections of the lair. A few other synthodrones could be seen on these screens, performing tasks she didn't bother to determine.

"I should have a microphone here," Drakken murmured, before finding the device. He pressed a button on the wall and spoke into the microphone, "attention all synthodrones. I, Dr. Drakken, have arrived! I have brought Shego along with me. She is to have level two access and receive all proper courtesy. Synthodrone eleven is to go to the medical bay and wait for me."

"Medical bay?" Shego asked, as Drakken led the way into a hallway beyond the security point. "Level two access? I'm afraid to ask but why do you have a medical bay and can I assume that level two access means I won't be able to get into some areas...without a little work?"

"Excellent questions," Drakken's enthusiasm showed no sign of waning. "Here we are, the data entry room."

A door to the left opened as Drakken approached, allowing the two humans to enter a medium sized room with several computer terminals. Drakken pulled several flash drives out of a pocket and sat at a workstation.

"This will only take a few minutes," he assured his companion, as he plugged several drives into a terminal's ports. "But to answer your first question, I knew that once I escaped from Global Justice, I would need to get rid of the insert. Since this is a medical procedure, I equipped a medical bay."

"Again, you've planned things out," Shego admitted, flopping into an available chair. "Now what about level two access? If you're going to bring me in here, why not trust me with the whole joint?"

"There are only a couple of rooms you won't be able to enter," he told her, changing drives in the ports. "Namely, the reactor chamber and the server room."

"Not that I'm a nuclear technician or a computer whiz," she grumbled. "But why keep me out...wait a minute! You have a nuclear reactor?"

"Of course. I could hardly tap into the local electrical grid now, could I?"

"You set all this up, via remote synthodrones, in a couple of years?"

"Motivation is a wonderful thing," he murmured, somewhat distracted. "There we are! All loaded into the lair's mainframe!"

He took the drives and handed them to Shego, "Please do me a favor and vaporize these. This far underground, nobody will be able to detect your emissions."

It actually felt good to exercise her comet powers again, after weeks of keeping them under wraps. Moments later the fine ash, all that remained of the drives, drifted to the floor.

"Okay doc," she drawled, while following him back out into the hallway and turning left. "What did I just fry?"

"Do you want me to answer your questions in order of asking, or in order of precedence?" He asked, humor evident in his voice.

"Answer the latest one first," she told him, playing along. "Then we'll get back to my access."

"Fair enough...ah, the medical bay!" A door to the right opened, admitting the two into a chamber full of what appeared to be medical equipment. "To answer your question, those drives held schematics and notes for all of my inventions. This lairs mainframe now holds the only records. Please remove your coat and hop up onto this scanning bed."

"Hold on a moment!" Shego made no move to either disrobe or climb on the aforementioned bed; even though she noted Drakken hanging his own overcoat on a hook. "Why do you need to scan me?"

Drakken favored her with a theatrical sigh, "I want to scan you in order to confirm the quantity and composition of any devices GJ may have implanted in your body. If there are any in there, don't you want them either removed or neutralized?"

"Damned right," she grumbled, removing her coat.

She spared a moment to wonder why Drakken would have thought to acquire and install coat hooks in a covert lair before lying down on the medical device.

"Very well, let's begin the scan...Ah! Synthodrone eleven! Be an obedient lad, go into the surgery suite, plug yourself into the control port and activate the calibration routine."

"Surgery!" Shego demanded, even as she noted a rather smaller than normal synthodrone had arrived, and now passed farther into the medical bay.

"Hold still!" Drakken commanded. "The surgery isn't for you...at least I don't think it will be necessary."

The blue-skinned scientist walked to and manipulated controls on a display while a robotic arm passed down the length of Shego's body.

"Then what's with the surgery suite?" She demanded.

"It's for me...well, I can tell you must have loved candy as a youngster. Your teeth are a veritable silver mine!"

"Hey, when you're not allowed to date, or even talk to boys, you lose a lot of motivation to brush your teeth. Now, why do you need surgery?"

"My insert, the one with the poison, will have to be physically removed. Okay, it appears that you have only one foreign object in your body, it is a combination moodulator and tracking chip and it's located on your spine, at your lower neck. It is also composed of polymers and semi-conductors. Surgery won't be necessary in your case."

"So what's the plan for my moodulator?"

"Electromagnetic destruction," he answered. He pressed another button and clamps emerged from the bed and seized Shego's arms and legs."

"Doc..." she warned, starting to draw on her plasma powers.

"Relax," he countered, his attention still on the display. "Those restraints are simple plastic. You can break them easily."

"Then why use them?"

"To make sure you remain absolutely still. I'm about to cause three energy beams to interact exactly at your chip. If I'm off by a few milometers; or if you flinch by that amount, the energy beams could interact in your spinal column. That wouldn't be good."

"Energy beams!? You're gonna zap me?"

"Any one of the beams is harmless; incapable of interacting with matter," he informed her. "It is only when the three interact, in precise phase counter-harmony, that they become destructive."

"I'm not sure I like this idea."

"Would you prefer invasive surgery?"

"What other choices are on the table?"

"Either wear a jammer for the rest of your life, spend the rest of your life underground, or live with the consequences of Global Justice manipulating your emotions."

"Alright, zap me!"

"Hold still, this might be a little uncomfortable."

Moments later, Shego felt an intense; but very localized and very short, pain in the back of her neck. The restraints immediately released her.

"You call that uncomfortable?" She demanded of her companion. "That's like telling someone about to get hit with a flash flood that he might get moist!"

"Please hold still," Drakken replied, not really paying much attention to her. "I want to scan you again and confirm that the chip has been destroyed."

The robotic arm, which Shego now realized held scanning equipment, re-appeared and passed up and down her body, spending extra time at her neck.

"Okay, the chip has been completely destroyed," Drakken announced. "You will experience some additional discomfort...er...soreness, for a couple of days while the minor tissue damage heals. Now, please follow me. We have some important things to discuss before I undergo my procedure."

While Shego didn't like to be ordered around, she had to admit that she liked the idea of working for the very decisive, capable Drakken she was currently with. He led the way out of the medical bay and deeper into the mountain. This time, the door he entered led into what appeared to be a comfortable living room.

"The living quarters," he explained, gesturing for her to take a seat on a comfortable, overstuffed chair. He disappeared down what appeared to be a typical, domestic hallway while she did so. Momentarily, he returned carrying an ipad.

"There's a home office down that hall," he explained, gesturing towards the hallway he had just used. "Along with the kitchen, dining room and a couple of bedrooms."

"I'd like you to look at this device, particularly the apps labeled contacts and markets," He tossed Shego the electronic device. "As I promised, I am giving you listings of all of my underworld contacts, as well as all of my sources and customers for goods and services."

"As well as the methods you use to communicate with each, what services you deal with each and how much you trust each one," she confirmed, examining the aforementioned apps. "Hey, wait a minute! If we're underground and all, why is this device working?"

"I'm glad you asked. It is linked into the lair's mainframe. It will even work in the safe house, due to my outside antenna. However, if you get more than a couple of miles from the shed or if the mainframe becomes inoperative...for whatever reason...this device will become a handheld computer."

"Okay, important user information," She grumbled back. "Now tell me, why don't you just fry that insert in you, like you did mine?"

"My insert is larger and contains poison," he informed her. "In theory, I could use the same device and incinerate the poison. However, the resultant heat from incinerating all of the poison, immediately, will result in sufficient soft tissue damage to kill me. The only way to be free of this device is to remove it without damaging it."

"You also said something about an anti-handling device and a method of bypassing it." Shego had to admit she was feeling concerned.

"Dr. Director was very careful to inform me about this anti-handling device," he growled. "The insert is actually affixed to my aorta with a series of tiny clamps. Should any of these clamps be compromised, the device will immediately inject the poison into my aorta. I'll be dead before I realize what is happening."

"You're sure about this?" Her eyebrows raised. "You seem awfully suspicious about everything else she told you."

"I confirmed it both by hacking Global Justice's files and by conducting extensive scans, myself," he sighed.

"Okay, what about this bypass you were talking about?"

"Dr. Director doesn't want this device to harm anyone _useful_ ," he spat, bitterness evident in his voice. "So she didn't want my corpse laying around with a potential time bomb inside. You see, Shego, her chemists came up with a wonderful poison; it is lethal but once released from the container, it becomes inert within several minutes."

"Long enough when injected into the aorta," Shego concluded.

"Exactly," he grumbled in agreement. "The short effective time solved one of her dilemmas; She didn't have to worry about my contaminated corpse lying around, just waiting to poison some first responder or helpful bystander who might try to perform artificial respiration."

The blue man's face grew darker as he continued. "Ah, but she thinks of everything, doesn't she? What if Drakken were to die due to something other than this poison? What if his body were to fall into the hands of local law enforcement or a first responder were to arrive as Lipsky breathed his last? What if someone performs an autopsy or uses a defibrillator? The insert could potentially interpret either as an attempt to deactivate it and then we'd be back to having an innocent being exposed to Lipsky's poison."

"Ah, but she found a most ingenious solution!" He concluded. "She gave the device the ability to monitor my heart! If my heart stops beating for thirty seconds, the device shuts down temporarily. If my heart stops beating for more than three minutes, the device shuts down permanently. It's not a perfect solution but she decided that if I were to suffer a heart attack, the temporary shut down will protect anyone performing CPR or using a defibrillator. The permanent shutdown will protect anyone performing an autopsy."

"Unfortunately for me, I have been unable to determine exactly how the device monitors my heart," now, Drakken looked at Shego to explain his problem. "I don't know if it detects the blood flowing through my aorta, the electrical impulses emitted by my heart's muscles, the vibrations created by my heart pumping, or some combination of the three. As a result, I have only one way of getting rid of the device. In a short time, I'm going back to the medical bay and into the surgical suite. The equipment I have installed there will halt my heart. Thirty five seconds later, synthodrone eleven will remove the device faster than any human surgeon can. After this, the instrumentation will restart my heart before I suffer permanent damage. I estimate a seventy two percent chance of success."

"What then?" Shego asked. "Let's say that fate decides that seventy two is good enough. What do you do then?"

"I'll be facing a long recovery," he shrugged. "As long as I don't experience any complications, the synthodrones will be able to care for me in this lair. I have sufficient food and an excellent infrastructure. You, of course, will be free to stay or to leave and pursue your own life."

"And after you recover?" She prompted.

"I'll make use of this lair," he shrugged his shoulders, then snorted a single, bitter chuckle. "If I had been smart and not taken the deal that Dr. Director offered me, all those years ago, I would be out of prison and able to make a legitimate fortune by now. I have equipped this lair with an impressive, highly automated manufacturing capability and my reactor provides almost unlimited, clean energy. If I were a legitimate businessman, I could make a fortune producing cutting edge equipment that would have the world singing my praises. As it is, should I survive the surgery and recover, I will make a comfortable living bartering flashy, criminal equipment to Henchco."

"We might get back to that later," Shego told him. "But just for the record, what happens if you fall in the twenty eight percent, or you have complications during your recovery?"

"Then my contingencies activate," he informed her. "First of all, the synthodrones will follow your orders...up to a point. They will open any of the passages to the surface and allow you free access to the entire lair; with the exceptions of the server room and the reactor chamber. They will even assist you should you wish to loot as much equipment from this lair as you wish. The only thing they will not allow you to take is my body and they will not venture more than a mile from any of the lair's exits. Should I pass away, I suggest you make good use of the next twenty four hours to remove as many valuables from this lair as you can."

"Twenty four hours after I pass away, the synthodrones will return to this lair; if they are outside assisting you, of course. They will then seal themselves and my remains inside. If you remain here, they will still allow you to leave. Also, at this time, my computer system will simultaneously contact the FBI, local and state law enforcement agencies, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission and Global Justice. It will be a two part transmission; first indicating that an atomic meltdown will occur at this location within twenty four hours and then transmitting all records I have of Dr. Director's actions towards myself and the comet-affected. My systems will also vent low-energy; harmless but detectable radiation to the surface, so that the various authorities know that the threat of a meltdown is valid. Forty-eight hours after I pass away, the reactor will melt down."

"Before you get shook up, know that I am not a murderer," he forestalled any protest with a raised hand. "My reactor is really an amazing thing; it converts matter directly to energy and is inherently safe. If my systems do not make constant adjustments to the operation, the reaction cannot sustain itself. It is very difficult to generate a meltdown condition and even then, the meltdown will not sustain itself for more than twenty minutes. However, for those twenty minutes the reactor chamber will reach temperatures of several thousand degrees centigrade. The contents of this lair will be incinerated and the rock around it melted. There will be no large explosion and no release of dangerous radiation. In the end, there will be only a crater full of cooling magma, leaving no trace of my reactor, my synthodrones, my inventions or myself."

For a long time, Shego simply stared at her employer. He returned her steady gaze with his own steady gaze.

"I don't understand a couple of things," she finally said, in a quiet, somber voice.

"I could understand you wanting to go out in a blaze of glory, blasting a crater the size of New Mexico to mark your passing. I wouldn't agree with it...but I could understand it. I could understand leaving this facility to someone you know and trust, so that Global Justice wouldn't know if you were really dead or not."

"Don't talk yet!" She held up a hand, preventing his comment. "I'm not asking for your lair...I'm just saying that I could understand you going out on either end of the spectrum, if you get my drift. What I don't understand is why you're choosing the middle ground...if it comes to that. Why are you so determined to erase everything you've done, but still willing to go to great lengths to not hurt anyone?"

Now it was Drakken's turn to take a deep breath and collect his thoughts.

"I never really wanted to hurt anyone," he finally told her. "Before Dr. Director got her hooks into me, I went to great lengths to not injure anyone, even though I was being a crook. If nobody has injured me, I see no need to injure them."

"That explains why you're taking care to make sure nobody's around if this place decides to glow," she told him. "And I can understand sending out the information about what the cyclops has been doing; I understand the whole _last chance at revenge_ thing. What I don't understand is why destroy this place at all? Why not let everyone know it exists, so they can come here and wonder how one man could invent so much?"

"My inventions could help the world and make some people a great deal of wealth," he told her, in a quiet, bitter voice. "And I don't want that to happen. This world has never been so kind to me and I'm glad to return the favor with my last act!"

"Compare my life to my old college chum, Dr. James Possible," he now snarled. "What does he have? He holds a respected position at a prestigious organization. He earns a fine salary, which allows him to maintain a beautiful, comfortable home in a fine, friendly neighborhood. More than that, he has a lovely wife, three amazing children and friends throughout his community. Every morning, I bet he can't wait to get to work and push the boundaries of astrophysics. Every afternoon, I bet he can't wait to get back home to build robots with his sons, revel in his daughter's accomplishments or...well...his wife..."

"I get the picture, Dr. D." Shego decided to avoid a potentially awkward statement.

"What do I have?" He demanded. "A hidden lair deep under the Wind River Mountains. A vial of poison next to my heart. I can't so much as show my face outside without being arrested. Family? Ha! I have never even had a meaningful relationship!"

"I admit to mistakes," he shook his head. "But were they really all that bad? During my undergrad days, I built precursors to the Be-be Robots. It was meant as a joke! I thought showing up at a dance with dancing robots would be funny! I didn't mean to imply I or any of my friends would find them attractive. Instead of considering me funny and a genius robotics inventor, everyone labeled me a loser who couldn't get a date! All through my university years, even though I earned top grades, I was laughed at and ridiculed at every step! Then I made my second biggest mistake; out of spite I deliberately didn't graduate, even though I could pass all of the classes necessary to do so."

"So I couldn't find a good job out of college," he continued his rant. "And turned to petty and what I thought harmless, crime. All that managed was to gain the attention of a very ambitious FBI agent. That's when I made my biggest mistake...trading my service for a semblance of freedom. Hasn't _that_ just turned out wonderful?"

"Hey doc," Shego pointed out. "It hasn't been a bed of roses for me, either."

"Of course not," he snapped, actually making her back away. "You made a mistake and rebelled from the narrow path that Dr. Director set for you. What price did you pay? Dr. Director forced ME to keep you from sullying your reputation too much! Sure, she put a chip in you, but poison? A death device? No! Couldn't risk losing someone _valuable_ like Shego in case the damned chip malfunctioned but Drakken? Ah, who'll miss him?"

"Then Possible comes along," now Drakken dropped his face in his hands. "I know, let's force Drakken to come up with outlandish crimes to hone this potential agent...this super human! And if Drakken looks like a complete imbecile to the world, who cares? If he's forced to work day and night to finance these schemes, so what? It's not as if anyone _important_ is being inconvenienced in any way!"

"That's why I have no intention of leaving anything behind," his miserable voice emerged from between his hands. "I've been forced to endure toil and humiliation for the benefit and entertainment of the high and mighty. If I leave anything useful behind, the same world that never gave a damn about me will reap the benefits and I have no doubt that the same high and mighty who used me like a tool will get the credit. I have no intention of letting that happen."

The mad scientist slumped in his chair, exhausted from his emotional outburst. For a long time, Shego could only look at him. Finally...

"Damn right, Dr. D." She said, softly but with a great deal of conviction.

He looked up, surprised at her agreement.

"That's the best reason I've heard," she nodded, "Back when you told me that you lied about about the synthodrones being bad out of the mold, I said there was hope for you. Now I'm sure of it. For the first time, I've seen you show a little bit of good 'ol human contempt."

"Let's get that chip out of you," she continued. "If it doesn't work, I'll get the heck out of here and make sure that the world knows that it could have been a lot better off if it had just played fair with you. But if it works; if you come out of that surgical suite free and clear of Global Justice, I think we can come up with something a lot better than sitting in the bottom of an abandoned mine, trading trinkets with Henchco."

"Very well, this next part could be rather boring for you and more than a little embarrassing for me," Drakken informed his companion. The scientist rose to his feet and strode towards the door to the lair's main hallway.

"How's that, Dr. D?"

"I must subject myself to a very complete battery of medical scans," he informed her, turning up the hall back to the medical bay. "Like I said before...wait, I was ranting back there, wasn't I?"

"Everyone needs a good rant, now and then," Shego drawled. "But back to the point..."

"My synthodrones are capable of performing acts with extreme precision," he told her. "But they don't have great deductive capability. For this reason, I have invented scanning equipment that can map out my internal anatomy with minute accuracy. Once the lair's mainframe has both the insert and my surrounding anatomy completely scanned, it will come up with the exact course of action for Synthodrone 11 to take."

"About that synthodrone," she mused, as they entered the medical bay. "I didn't get that close of a look at him, but he seemed kind of undersized."

"Ah yes," Drakken now rummaged through a storage cabinet in the room that held the scanning bed. "I deliberately built him that way. I sacrificed some strength in order to give him greater precision. He is currently plugged into the mainframe, re-calibrating his movements to the most accurate degree possible. Ah!"

The blue scientist removed a plastic covered bundle of cloth from the cabinet. Shego followed him through the door that the synthodrone...presumably number eleven...had passed through earlier. This door led into what appeared to be surgical theater. There were several comfortable seats and a viewing window, through which a surgical room was visible. Synthodrone eleven was visible inside, moving his arms almost like a dancer.

"Please wait here," Drakken instructed. "Or you might prefer to return to the living quarters. Scanning me might take some time."

"Why don't I hang out here for the moment?" Shego replied. "I want to be here in case..."

"Thank you," Drakken nodded with simple gratitude when Shego seemed unwilling to finish the statement. He paused a moment, as did Shego, neither knowing how to act in what could potentially be their last moments in the same room. Finally, Drakken spun on his heel and stalked through yet another door while Shego flopped onto one of the chairs.

While Shego watched, the synthodrone apparently finished his calibration routine, as he stopped moving. A few minutes later, Drakken entered the surgical room, wearing a gown and with a glare on his face.

"Should I survive this operation, this is the first invention I shall create!" He announced, in a tone of righteous indignation.

"What's that, Dr. D?"

"A surgical gown that gives the patient a modicum of privacy!" He roared. "I purchased these gowns from a wholesale house. I didn't bother to modify them and look at this!"

Drakken turned and Shego saw considerably more of him than she really wanted to.

"Uh, Drakken..." she tried to gain his attention.

"What's the purpose?" He demanded. "I'm no medical doctor, but I can't picture any scenario in which a doctor needs to gain access to a patient's bum at a moment's notice!" The effect his waving arms had on the gown's fit did not exactly enhance the privacy he claimed he wanted.

"Dr. Drakken..." it was hard for Shego to speak when she was trying to avert her glance.

"I'm over forty," he continued. "So I've had _the probe,_ but that was understood! That was necessary! _That_ doctor needed to go there...but why would any surgical procedure involving the chest area require immediate, unimpeded access to the keyster?"

"Drakken..."

"Did whomever produce these blasted garments even consult with a physician? I simply cannot picture any surgeon of any talent saying; _in case of a loss of breathing or heartbeat, a half-second delay in spreading the cheeks could spell disaster!_ "

"DREW THEODORE LIPSKY!"

The shout shocked the patient out of his rant and caused him to spin around to face a furious Shego.

"You sounded like my mother!"

"Will you just get on that bed and get a blanket on yourself!? She demanded. "Right now, you're the only person in the world I'm even kind of close to and you just might not make it through! Please, if you don't make it, I don't want my last memory of you being a ranting madman flailing his buttocks at me!"

"Oh...er...quite right," the subject of Shego's anger quickly did as ordered. Once covered, he activated a control next to the bed. Several robot arms began to converge on him.

"This might actually take a couple of hours," he told his observer. "I have prepared a very detailed scanning and mapping routine, so the process promises to be unpleasant for both me and any observers."

"I can wait it out," Shego actually sniffed back a tear.

"There's no need," Drakken assured her. "You can go back to the living quarters, if you want. I promise that I'll contact you before the actual removal procedure begins."

"Look, I don't want to be alone or to leave you..."

"I'll be very busy, here," Drakken said. "You just said you didn't want to remember me...well...you know."

Shego actually blushed.

"Seeing me prodded and probed will undoubtedly leave a more unflattering final impression. Please go to the living quarters and make use of the entertainment system. I'll call you when I'm once again presentable."

For a moment, unfamiliar loyalty demanded that she remain but she acknowledged reality.

"Make damn sure you let me know before you give that synthodrone the knife," she snarled, before rushing from the medical suite.

Determined to keep control of herself, Shego stalked through the living quarters, taking stock of all supplies. She quickly determined which room would be hers and made the bed. She discovered that the larder was very well stocked, so she took the opportunity to make herself a light meal. Finally, she made use of the entertainment center. Surprisingly, Drakken had managed to acquire some local television signals so Shego watched a couple of news shows. Still nothing about their escape.

Finally, she found a movie that she kind of liked and clicked it on. For a long time, she sat and looked at the television...without really paying attention to what she was seeing. It wasn't until the credits were rolling on the screen that a hidden speaker broadcast Drakken's voice.

"All preparations are made, Shego," his somewhat groggy voice sounded.

"On my way," she called back. As she hurried out of the living quarters, she both tried not to run and wondered if Drakken was able to hear her reply.

Of course, moments later saw her in the surgical theater. Drakken lay on his back, his chest bare. Although he looked somewhat bedraggled, but his eyes were steady when he looked up. A theatrical, beeping sound came from a monitor next to the surgical bed and synthodrone eleven stood near his creator.

"There's no sense in waiting any longer," the blue man murmured.

"Drakken," she replied. "Do you have to have that movie-style heart monitor beep sounding?"

"Allow me a little vanity," he answered, a smile on his face.

"Drew," she hesitated, although she couldn't help smile in return. "I don't know how to say this, so I'll just come out and say it. I don't really know what we are to each other. I know what we are is something more than just boss and employee. What are we, friends, surrogate father and daughter, something else? Whatever it is, please get through this so we can figure out just what it is."

"I hope to do so. Now, synthodrone eleven, start the procedure."

Shego didn't know what devices connected to Drakken did what to stop his heart. She only caught her breath when that damned beeping sound was replaced with a chilling, steady tone.

* * *

 _This is an announcement from the Emergency Broadcast System. This is not a test. The Federal Government has received a credible threat of an imminent atomic detonation in the Wind River Mountain Range. Residents of the range are urged to gather necessities, such as medicine and a single change of clothing and evacuate immediately. If you are unable to evacuate yourself, call your nearest law enforcement office. The following are a list of counties and cities affected by this mandatory evacuation, and the evacuation destination for each point. Authorities and volunteers will be waiting to assist you once you reach these destinations. For the cities of..._

* * *

 _A/N: Again, my thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his Beta assistance._


	6. Chapter 6

"So what's the sitch, Wade?" Kim Possible used her usual catch phrase while speaking into her improved Kimmunicator.

"I have a snap mission from Global Justice," the young genius replied.

"This is our first ever college spring break," Ron protested. "We're supposed to be chilling out and doing lazy things!"

"And we haven't had any real couple time since midterms," Kim added.

"Dr. Director says that it's a sensitive matter that she can't justify sending proper agents to investigate," Wade told his friends. "She also says that these missions will help your acceptance chances, once you get your undergraduate degrees."

"Of course she would," Kim grumbled. "When's pickup and where are we going?"

"Pickup outside your house in ten minutes," Wade told them. "Global Justice will provide equipment and full a full briefing en route."

Kim Possible sighed as her friend's image vanished from the screen. A whole week of doing nothing of any real consequence...initiated by a movie watching, cuddling and make out session on the couch had just been put on hold. Both she and Ron were more than a little upset as they stalked outside the Possible residence, waiting for whatever method of transportation Global Justice chose to provide. They didn't wait long.

A global justice hover-car floated down from the sky. The two teens jumped into the back and the car lifted into the darkening atmosphere.

"This is just short range transportation, Miss Possible," the pilot called over his shoulder. "The mission location is in the Mediterranean. A long range jet is standing by at the airport. We'll have you there in about five minutes."

"What's happening in the Mediterranean?" Kim demanded of the pilot.

"I'm not authorized for that briefing," the pilot answered, guiding his aircraft over the city. "All I know is that you will receive a full briefing on the jet."

"Thank you," she said, in a rather grouchy tone.

The pilot didn't see fit to comment further. Instead, he set his vehicle down on a taxiway, near a sleek jet. Kim's already bad attitude wasn't improved when a passenger hatch opened to reveal...

"Will Du," she rolled her eyes as she and Ron vaulted out of the hover-car.

The short-ranged aircraft lifted off as soon as they were clear and the jet's engines started to turn. Kim and Ron trotted to the portable stairway, while Du waited at the top.

"Miss Possible," the agent called over the engines' growing noise. "Global Justice appreciates your prompt response. Please come aboard."

Kim planted her feet on the concrete and threw out an arm, blocking Ron's access to the stairs. She locked eyes with Du. After a few moments, Du heaved a theatrical sigh.

" _Team_ Possible," he called, louder as the engines continued to spin up. "Global Justice appreciates your prompt response. Won't you please come aboard?"

"Of course," she replied, in a voice of sweet innocence. " _We're_ happy to help." With that, she led the way up the stairs and into the aircraft.

While Will Du was in many ways the epitome of the ineffectual agent, his manners and efficiency were top notch. Moments after the jet reached a cruising altitude, he had his materials prepared. After offering the teens some light refreshments, he started his briefing.

"I'm going to give you the vital piece of information first," he told the two. "Shego has reappeared; on Senor's Island."

Both Kim and Ron gasped. Rufus even popped his head out Ron's pocket to add his shocked exclamation.

"Now for the briefing," Du smirked, knowing he had everyone's full attention. "We start with the background."

"As you know, two years ago, Shego and Drakken escaped from a Global Justice holding facility. Ten days after this, various U.S. Government departments received communications, claiming to be from Drakken, which stated that a nuclear meltdown was imminent in the Wind River Mountains. As there were no monetary or authoritarian demands, we had reason to doubt that Drakken was really behind it. However, all agencies were able to detect radiation in the area claimed, so the area was evacuated."

"If memory serves," Ron interrupted. "There was a meltdown a day after the warning; but nobody can figure out exactly what happened."

"Your memory serves correctly," Du nodded at him. "However, to get back to my timeline, the same communications that conveyed the meltdown warnings also made claims that Global Justice, and Dr. Director in particular, had implanted some sort of _dead man_ device in Drakken's body. According to the communication, Dr. Director used this device to compel Dr. Drakken to perform many of his criminal activities, including the Diablo World Conquest plot of two years ago."

"The fact that there was a meltdown of some sort lent some credibility to these claims," Du continued. "As Mr. Stoppable stated, nobody knows exactly what happened. A fusion or fission reaction should have released massive amounts of harmful radiation; yet there was none. On the other hand, the energy released during the event cannot be produced by conventional, chemical reactions. There was some form of atomic...or subatomic...reaction; but of a sort no physicist can reproduce or even explain."

"For all of his faults, Drew Lipsky had mastered nuclear physics...at least occasionally...to a degree nobody else has." The agent continued his lecture, "as Dr. Director has stated publicly, Dr. Drakken's genius was only matched by his incompetence. The FBI and Global Justice concluded that Dr. Drakken actually was responsible for the meltdown and due to this, the claims of a controlling, medical device were also taken seriously. Global Justice has been undergoing reviews ever since the meltdown event. So far, we've found no evidence of wrongdoing performed by either Dr. Director or Global Justice."

"Agent Du," Kim interrupted. "Just who performed these reviews?"

"Interpol, the FBI, the CIA and several other national law enforcement organizations," the agent answered. "As the two of you are US citizens, I won't bore you with the complete list beyond the American Agencies. While this investigation has discovered several...questionable...actions; no outright criminal acts, or acts outside of Global Justice's authority, have been unearthed."

"Going back to the mission at hand," he continued, after neither teen seemed to want a more information. Twelve days after the meltdown event, Shego appeared at Jack Hench's offices. She claimed that Drakken passed away during an ill-planned attempt to remove this supposed medical device from his body. She further claimed that Drakken had constructed some form of reactor, and a lair, at the meltdown location. As the site was reduced to magma, there is no way to confirm if there was an actual lair at this location."

"This is a confirmed Shego sighting," Du stressed. "The NSA had managed to place an agent inside Henchco's administrative office, who shared this information with Global Justice. The agent last saw Shego entering Jack Hench's private office, after requesting that Mr. Hench assist her in finding employment. While we have compiled numerous unsubstantiated sightings of her since then, we have nothing we can confirm."

"What do you think happened to her?" Ron interrupted.

"We have some theories," Du replied. "But I'd like to get to them as part of your briefing. Any more interruptions?"

Ron looked a little surly at the reprimand, but stood up to Du, "yeah, what happened to Drakken?"

"Thirty days after the meltdown event, a Swiss Bank account transferred a large sum of money to his mother's retirement account," Du answered, now looking less confrontational. "It's Global Justice's belief that Lipsky kept that account as a sort of fail safe. We believe that this account was set up to make the transfer automatically, unless Drakken prevented it. Obviously if he were dead or incapacitated, he would be unable to prevent the transfer, thus providing her with financial stability. The fact that his mother is now cared for, at least financially, has led us to believe that Drakken died either during or close to the time of, the meltdown event."

"And nobody has seen him for around two years," Kim added, her tone somber. "He was always sort of...flamboyant. I can't picture him being around for the last two years and not trying to get attention."

"Global Justice's psychologists believe he had an inferiority complex," Du nodded her way. "And that was why he wanted the attention. Anyway, let's get back to the matter at hand."

"A common saying is that hindsight is always 20/20," Du resumed. "A great deal of the following data is from well in the past, but we didn't consider it relevant until recent events linked the past events together."

"First incident; three months after Shego's escape, a new dealer approached several companies in Spain, France and Italy, offering to sell liquefied natural gas at very competitive prices. It's somewhat of an open secret that the black market for such fuels is alive and well, so some of these companies accepted delivery. As black market fuel doesn't fall within Global Justice's area of concern, we didn't investigate this."

"As time went by and this dealer proved reliable, he started to supply more and more of Europe's natural gas needs. Currently, he is providing almost twenty percent of Western Europe's liquefied natural gas. While I won't say which nation traced the ships delivering the fuel, ships appear to be loading their cargo at Senor's Island."

The agent paused a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing.

"Okay, that isn't completely accurate," Du confessed. "Senor owns a small, barren island roughly two kilometers from the one he lives on. It is here that the ships appear to load their fuel. There are several, small buildings on the island and ground penetrating radar scans suggest extensive underground construction, nothing is consistent with a well. Besides that, geography doesn't support the likelihood of significant reserves anywhere near the islands."

"But where does the fuel come from?" Kim asked. "Surely, that same nation tried to trace the source."

"There doesn't appear to be a source," Du replied. "As you suspected, the same nation tried to trace a route. The only conclusion they and Global Justice can come to is that Senor is producing the fuel. This is the first mystery you will investigate; where is the fuel coming from?"

"One last piece of information, this fuel is incredibly pure. Most natural gas has impurities in it. A German lab analyzed the gas and found it to be almost pure carbon and hydrogen."

"Do you think that Senor is trying to corner the fuel market in Western Europe," Ron asked. "Then threaten to turn it off if he doesn't get a major payoff?"

"We consider this to be the most likely explanation," Du answered. "However, that brings us to the second mystery. Senor has installed very large, underwater power cables from this island to the European Mainland."

"Trying to drain Europe's power again?" Kim asked.

"Quite the opposite," Du countered. "This power cable is actually pouring Gigawatts of power into the European Electrical Grid. Again, we're dealing with black markets so we can't be sure who's paying and who's charging for this electricity, but these lines are supplying a noticeable amount of power to Southern Europe."

"This is your second mission," he continued. "Find the source of this electricity. We cannot detect any fossil fuel emissions from this island, meaning there are no fuel burning generators active. There also isn't the necessary infrastructure present to be generating this level of power from wind or wave generators."

"It sounds like you've got more missions for us," Ron muttered. "Since you didn't say _the last mission_."

"Two more," Dru shot the teen an evil grin. "Roughly six months after Shego escaped Global Justice, several very expensive, private medical practitioners received offers to utilize medical facilities on Senor's main island. A handful of these doctors accepted the offers and started to perform...almost miracles...for their patients. This isn't quack medicine, either. These patients had complex medical issues, from which they are recovering much faster than they should be...or they are recovering when they shouldn't be recovering at all."

"Apparently, Senor has obtained medical diagnostic and treatment capabilities that enhance the already formidable capabilities of these professionals. Global Justice is concerned, as such services could make the extremely wealthy and influential patients dependent or indebted to a known techno-villain, Senor."

"You have the tone of someone working towards a conclusion," Kim added.

"Indeed," Du actually smiled a genuine smile...something that actually scared both teens. "Roughly forty eight hours ago, a spy satellite picked up an electromagnetic transmission consistent with Shego's plasma powers, on Senor's Island. That nation's intelligence agency immediately notified Global Justice and we requested surveillance activities from several nations. Eighteen hours ago, a fast attack submarine spotted a woman water-skiing in the shallows near Senor's Island. We believe that woman was Shego."

"You believe? She's rather distinctive." Kim pointed out.

"The submarine couldn't get close," Du informed her. "It had to stay in relatively deep waters, so it couldn't get very close to the island. The crew managed to record her from multiple angles as she skied, and sent these tapes to their own national security organization, who sent it to Global Justice. Facial recognition software calculates an eighty seven percent chance that it is Shego."

Du paused for a moment, "There was quite a bit of footage. The crew filmed her for a very long time."

"After two years, she's back," Ron mused, sharing a conspiratorial smile with the agent.

"Needless to say, this sighting has given Global Justice enough probable cause to solicit massive information requests from cooperative governments," Du continued. "However, Senor's Island belongs to no nation and the fact that a great deal of Europe's energy is coming from that location makes any action a politically dicey operation."

"In other words, Global Justice could get in trouble if they make Senor angry enough to turn off the electricity and gas," Kim glared at Du. "But if a couple of teens create an issue, Global Justice can claim complete ignorance."

"Put bluntly, yes."

"We'll do it," Ron could see the look in his girlfriends eyes. "So we're supposed to find out where the gas is coming from, how the electricity is being generated, what kind of medical facilities are present...and what else."

"Really, you'll be confirming as much of Global Justice's current theory as possible," Du countered. "Please bear in mind that since information is still being collected, this theory is evolving even as we speak."

"And that theory is..." Kim prompted.

"Global Justice theorizes that after Drakken and Shego escaped, they made their way to the meltdown site, where Lipsky had established some sort of hidden refuge. Apparently, this refuge was equipped with some form of reactor. Shortly after the escape, Lipsky suffered health issues...of a sort we cannot speculate about. Perhaps he had an accident in the lair, perhaps he and Shego had an altercation. Clearly, he couldn't go to a hospital and obtain medical assistance."

"Anyway, it is our belief that Mr. Lipsky passed away less than ten days after escaping and his reactor became unstable shortly after this," Du paused for a moment. "Actually, that makes sense. Perhaps the reactor became unstable and Drakken was injured or killed attempting to perform repairs."

"Shego realized that it was no longer safe to remain in the immediate area. We believe that she obtained either samples of some of Drakken's inventions, the documentation he had produced, or both. We believe that Shego removed such items from the refuge before warning the various agencies about the imminent meltdown. We also believe that she fabricated the story of the medical device in order to distract the investigating agencies, leaving fewer resources available to pursue her."

"Shego is not a top-tier scientist," Du continued. "So she couldn't make direct use of the items she removed from the refuge. We believe that she contacted Hencho; ostensibly to secure employment but in reality to make contact with underworld scientists who could utilize Drakken's technology. Given the proper scientist, she could convert this technology to financial gain very quickly, as long as she had an investor willing to provide substantial capital."

"Senior Senor Sr!" Two teens, and a naked mole rat, deduced.

"That's our theory," Du nodded. "Furthermore, we believe that she has been trying to stay hidden since Drakken passed away. However, she has both a temper and rebellious streak; two days ago she made use of her plasma while a satellite was monitoring that section of the world. This prompted the additional attention that exposed her."

Du chuckled. "She's probably been enjoying activities that _could_ have exposed her for a long time. That one errant plasma burst changed water-skiing from recreation to a dangerous exposure."

"And entertaining exposure for a submarine's crew," Ron added.

"Ron!" Kim glared at her boyfriend.

"And Global Justice never rests...the long arm of the law...the Mounties always get their man...whatever," Ron interrupted. "We'd really like to know what you want us to do about her."

"Your mission is to infiltrate Senor's Island," the agent replied, glaring at Ron. "We want you to confirm Shego's presence and determine what sort of operation Senor has established. This might require travel between his main island and the smaller landmass, where the tankers dock. In simple terms, collect all available data and return to Global Justice."

"What kind of support are you providing?" Kim asked.

"First of all, we're scouring the scientific elite," Du told her. "There are only a handful of scientists in the world capable of deciphering Drakken's technology...and his handwriting...and his spelling. Global justice is attempting to locate all of these geniuses. This is a sudden mission for all of us, so we're all trying to adjust on the fly."

"Secondly, we will deploy a stealth drone when we approach. It will have to be up high, to remain unnoticed, but I'll be able to keep you updated on all outdoor movement."

"Unfortunately, that's all we can offer. Senor's Island is in international waters and several nations, some of which don't exactly get along very well, will get very edgy if a naval force strong enough to overcome his defenses moves into the area. On the other hand, if you can prove that Shego is on the island and orchestrating some sort of international criminal activity, Global Justice will have the authority to intervene."

"I think we've established why we're going in, rather than a GJ Agent," Kim told the briefer. "Now, what's our equipment and what's the plan?"

"In addition to your usual mission load, we will provide you with rocket gliders, similar to what you've used before. While we haven't managed to completely map Senor's defenses, we predict the weakest point to be on the southwest. If you eject from this aircraft roughly forty miles out, we'll pass to the north, focusing any attention on us. Also, a freighter will be southwest of the island. You can use this as a back-masking mass. This will put you onto the island, on the rough, southwest side shortly before dawn. This shore has a sandy beach sixty feet wide, backed by a forty foot cliff."

"The Senors' seem to be a party bunch," Du continued. "If they follow their usual activity pattern, there will be a great deal of maintenance staff activity, confined to the east end of the island, shortly after sunup. Shortly after noon, the pool area seems to be occupied with increasing activity as the sun goes down."

"The west end of the island seems to hold the medical facility, as well as the guest housing for the visiting medical staff and patients. This area sees light foot traffic, leading from the guest housing to the medical facility, starting shortly after sunup and peaking at about 9:00 AM. Foot traffic is then very light until about 2:00 PM when there is heavy traffic from the medical facility to the guest housing area. Senor's staff maintains the area in the late afternoon, starting at about 5:00 PM."

"However, there appears to be an on-call maintenance staff operating. Apparently, Senor is very fussy about his guests seeing a tidy island. This on call staff is unpredictable, they can show up at any time. However, this is your best chance to interact with the guests. By posing as minor maintenance and housekeeping staff, you should be able to intermingle with the guests on the west end of the island. With any luck, this will provide you with the ability to observe the eastern end of the island, with relative anonymity."

"Now, some other items we'll be sending along..."

* * *

Kim Possible cut the power to her jet pack and lifted the nose. Her timing was perfect; momentum and gravity countered each other with her feet eighteen inches above the sandy shore. She landed just inshore of the surf line, where the sand was damp and firm. Landing without a sound, she crouched low, looking back for her companion.

Ron's timing wasn't as precise. His feet were thirty inches above the gentle waves when he came to a halt, and he dropped into ankle-deep water. Still, the sounds of the surf drowned out the slight splashing sound of his landing. Without a word, the two teens crept inland, pulling the packs from their backs and scrambling across the dark beach to the deeper dark at the foot of the cliff.

"We're down," Kim reported over her headset.

"Confirmed," Du's whispered voice sounded in her earpiece.

The redhead couldn't keep the smile off her face; wasn't this a better spring break than lounging around the house? Since neither her or Ron were into drinking and wild partying, they had decided to not even try to talk the 'rents into letting them go to Panama Beach, Cancun, Myrtle Beach or one of the other traditional spring break destinations. Instead, here they were, on a tropical beach and engaging in extreme physical activity!

Then there was Ron! Even last year, he would have probably screamed all the way in and cut power at least fifty yards off shore, forcing her to swim out and assist him to shore. The last year, more or less, had done wonders for him. The blonde waved to gain her attention, then gestured slightly towards the right of their current course. Soon, the silhouette of large boulders appeared out of the night.

Deciding she didn't care why Ron seemed to have extra-ordinary night vision, she followed as he led the way into the boulders. Moments later, they found a hollow large enough to keep their gear out of sight.

"Update." Kim whispered into the mouthpiece.

"Normal activity further inland, near the living area. Recommend you remain at your location until after sunup."

"Wilco."

The two teens found a place to hide in the boulders and changed into uniforms that mimicked those worn by Senor's staff. They weren't perfect disguises, but should do for casual, distant observation. In the growing light, Kim studied her boyfriend's face. He was smiling! Instead of the scared-but-determined look of the past, he was honestly enjoying this! As the sun rose higher and the sky grew brighter, the teens studied the cliff face for a good climbing route.

"Sitrep," Du's voice sounded over the headset. "Maintenance staff is working the east end of the island. No activity on the west end. You have a clear path to the inhabited areas."

"Wilco, commencing infiltration."

This was the dangerous part. If they tried to reach the island's facilities by one of the several sidewalks and stairways, they risked close observation and recognition. On the other hand, if they climbed the cliff, anyone who spotted them would obviously wonder why some of the hired help was climbing cliffs. They had decided, when in the aircraft, to risk the cliffs.

Again, Kim had to admire her boyfriend's progress. Instead of waiting at the foot of the cliff for her to climb up and drop a line, he ascended next to her, almost keeping pace. They paused just below the top.

"Update," she whispered into her microphone.

"Clear."

The two teens slithered over the top of the cliff. A few feet from the drop-off, they encountered a well-swept sidewalk, winding between ornamental shrubs. Kim pulled a clipboard from her pack, while Ron pulled a small broom and pan from his. Quickly brushing the climb's dust from their fake uniforms, they began to walk briskly towards the guest housing area.

"Head's up!" Du's whisper sounding in their headsets. "Someone's coming from the guest housing."

Ron dropped to a knee and began to sweep imaginary dust from the sidewalk while Kim acted like she was checking an item on the clipboard. A camera in her headset focused on the approaching man, who she could now see was wearing a lab coat. Facial recognition software in the Global Justice aircraft informed Agent Du that the man was...

"Doctor Herman George," Du's voice sounded in the teens' ears. "A brilliant surgeon from Germany."

"Good morning, Herr Doctor," Kim greeted the surgeon, as he passed.

The good doctor simply nodded acknowledgment as he walked by, his mind clearly on other things.

"Okay, that one worked," Kim murmured into the microphone, once the man was well past the undercover teens. "Lets find a better vantage point."

"Follow the sidewalk to the southwest."

The teens followed Du's instructions, which led them up a gentle slope above the guest housing facility. Here, an elevated platform supported several benches, which would afford a beautiful view of the sun setting behind the surf, come evening. For now, the benches provided an excellent cover chore for the teens to pretend to clean. While doing so, they allowed the cameras built into their headsets to scan the growing throng of doctors and patients wandering from the quarters to the medical facility. Whenever they spotted movement off to the east, where Senor lived, one of the teens scanned the unsuspecting person.

"We've identified just about all of the doctors and patients," Du's voice told them, as the stream slowed to a stop. "While certain nations' health ministries will be interested in knowing the patients, and doctors who are coming here, we don't have anything we're looking for."

"Should we go to the medical facility?" Ron asked, while dusting another bench.

"No, it's full and we've already scanned the occupants," Du told him. "Slip into the guest quarters. Most of the occupants should be gone and you might spot who you're looking for."

"Wilco."

The teens followed the sidewalk down to the guest quarters' door. As they approached the building, a faint hissing started to sound in their ears.

"Our headsets seem to be having problems," Kim tried to report.

"Com...m...ming...fain...broken," Du's scratchy voice sounded in her ears. "..comend...lternate...ion."

"Du, if you can read me, we're going in," Kim whispered, speaking very slowly. "We will scan any occupants and store the images on internal memory."

The teens entered a double door and found themselves in what appeared to be a hotel's or apartment building's entrance vestibule. Passing further in, they saw a now-empty dining area, with several recently occupied tables. Footsteps sounded in one of the halls.

Ron quickly spotted a busboy's cart and started to load dirty dishes from one of the tables. Kim followed suit as an elderly man and woman passed the dining area and walked out of the door. Playing their part, Kim followed Ron into an empty kitchen.

"Something isn't right," Ron whispered to Kim. "Senor's staff should have been picking up the dishes as soon as the guests used them. This grill is still hot, and turned on, but where are the cooks?"

"You're the food expert," Kim shrugged. "What do you want to do?"

"Let's find the dishwashing machine and drop of these dishes," he replied. "But this isn't the way to run a cafe and I can't picture Senor not having an efficient staff."

They quickly found the room that Ron wanted and dropped off their dishes with other dirty dishes. Ron again shook his head, wondering where the dishwashers were at when there were dirty dishes to be cleaned. They returned to the kitchen to find that it wasn't unoccupied anymore.

A large man, wearing a cooks apron, was at the grill with his back to the teens. The two walked briskly towards the door to the dining area, hoping the man wouldn't even know they were there. Instead, he turned to grab something on one of the counters. He looked up, seeing the teens and giving them a clear view of...

"Dr. Drakken?!" Kim gasped.

"Surprised to see me, Possible?" Drakken asked, quite calmly.

A grin appeared on the blue-man's face. It wasn't a nasty grin, nor a triumphant smirk. It wasn't a nervous, placating smile nor humor at someone eases' expense. Rather, it was an honest expression of humor.

"Now wasn't _that_ an interesting role reversal from our usual dialog?"

* * *

 _A/N: As always, my fondest thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his Beta and sounding-board assistance._


	7. Chapter 7

This just wasn't right. While Kim wasn't a firm believer in the roles laid out in the Big Book of Villainy, there was a right and wrong way of doing things. Drakken simply wasn't behaving in the proper manner.

Okay, faking your own death was brilliant...if a little unorthodox. Using your false death to move to a tropical paradise and live a luxurious life made sense...sort of.. no wait, that made perfect sense. However, when the authorities discovered you, when you found yourself face to face with your nemesis, there were certain, acceptable actions to take.

You could activate the death trap you had carefully prepared...which would explain Shego allowing herself to be discovered. You could immediately attack your foe, indicating that you were caught by surprise. You could attempt to flee or beg to be left to live out the rest of you life in peace. All of these actions would meet the approval of anyone who had studied Senor's book.

You weren't supposed to simply pull out more eggs and throw more bacon and potatoes on the grill.

"This is serious!" Kim snarled at the blue man, who was busy scrambling eggs in a very large bowl. "You're still a wanted fugitive, even if the world's authorities think you're dead!"

"Like I told you a moment ago, I'll answer any questions you have, under one condition," the mad scientist poured the eggs onto the hot grill and started to swirl them with a whisk.

"And that condition is...?"

"That you let me eat!" Drakken rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I just woke up and I'd like my breakfast. I was kind enough to prepare some additional food, in case you and Stoppable would like to join us."

"Whoa, you know my name?" Ron looked partially shocked and partially pleased.

"Of course, your name is Ronald Stoppable! I also know that you're supposed to be a talented cook, so could you at least start making and buttering some toast? I prefer whole wheat and Shego prefers rye."

"So Shego's here?" Kim asked. At least they had accomplished one of their goals.

"Indeed! Now I don't know about you but I like a hot cup of coffee with breakfast. If you step out into the dining area and take a left, you'll find a coffee station. The instructions are printed on the machine and some hazelnut coffee is waiting. While you're out there, if you could set one of the larger tables for four, we should be joining you in a few minutes."

"Why do you think we'll eat anything you offer us?" Kim demanded. She was rather put out that Ron had started to feed bread into a large toaster.

"Uurrgh," Drakken sighed, rubbing his brow and started to point out a few items. "In case you haven't noticed, I've mixed the scrambled eggs into one large mass, the bacon slices are all cooking together, and the hash browns are all mixed together as well. We'll be eating food from a common mass, drinking coffee from a common pot, all off of tableware I've just given you complete control of. If I were to try to poison or drug you, I'll have to do the same to myself!"

"Now, I'd like to be civil about all of this," he turned back to the grill. "Senor has been a very good host and I don't want to damage his resort or his reputation. We only have about forty-five minutes or so and like I said, I'm hungry."

"Forty-five minutes?" Kim asked, growing more confused.

"And counting down!" Drakken snapped. "Senor doesn't want to put his staff or guests in a compromised position. After the medical staff and the guest patients leave, his kitchen and housekeeping staff leave for an hour. That way, Shego and I can get something to eat while the medical facility staff can honestly say that they've never seen international felons in the place. Now, can you please start the coffee and set the table?!"

"Oh, that reminds me," Drakken's voice was much more calm as he pressed a button on his belt. "Shego, our guests have finally arrived."

"You were expecting us?" Kim gasped. "And why does your ph..."

"Can we please discus this over breakfast?" Drakken interrupted her. "Unless you start the coffee, right now, we'll all have to sit around watching breakfast get cold while we wait for it."

Having never been confronted with a supervillain's breakfast invitation before, Kim decided to play along. It only took her a few minutes to find the coffee station and start the brew. She also found the clean tableware, cleaned off a large table and set it for four adults and one mole rat. She had just finished when Drakken and Ron bustled out of the kitchen with breakfast. Kim fetched the full coffee carafe and was about to sit down when...

"Well, it looks like the gang's all here," a familiar, sarcastic voice sounded from a hallway. Kim spun to see her old nemesis, looking very odd in shorts, a tee shirt and sandals. "How long ago did you detect me?"

"Global Justice picked up a plasma signature a little more than two days ago," Ron blurted out, before Kim could signal for him to not answer.

"Hmmm...looks like your shielding is working better than you expected," the green-hued woman congratulated her blue companion. The two villains quickly sat down and served themselves. After a glance at each other, Kim, Ron and Rufus sat down and loaded their plates, as well.

"I believe you were going to ask why my communicator was working earlier," Drakken addressed the team, while they were eating. "The answer is that I've developed a communications shield and installed it over the island. It is much stronger inside the buildings than outside, and I've left the outdoors area on this end of the island completely uncovered. My own communication devices still work, however."

"That's why I was wondering when you had detected me," Shego added. "Five days ago, I flared my plasma inside the working area at the east end. Four days ago, I flared my plasma inside this building. Three days ago, I flared it by the pool at the east end... Drakken was sure I'd be detected. Two days ago, I flared just outside this building."

"You act like you were trying to draw us in," Kim retorted.

"We were," Drakken shrugged. "We needed to separate you from Global Justice's oversight so you would hear us out."

"Why do you think we'll listen to anything you have to say?" Kim demanded.

"Because we are about to hit you with the most horrific weapon known to man," Drakken replied, around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"And what's that?" Ron was clearly nervous, and ready to leap into action.

"The truth," Shego snickered. "We're going to fill your little, narrow minded brains with some really nasty information."

"And what information is that?" Kim demanded. Despite herself, she couldn't help but nibble on a piece of bacon.

"You'll see after breakfast...oh, that reminds me," Drakken pressed a button on his belt again. "Please let Senor know that the special guests have arrived. We'll be at the pool whenever he chooses to greet them."

"Senor is a proper host," Drakken answered the teens' confused looks. "He likes to personally greet all visitors to his island. I've also set up the shield over the pool, so we can have our meeting there."

"Shield? Pool?" Kim was getting more confused by the moment.

"It's gonna be a nice day, Pumpkin," Shego quipped, giving Drakken a chance to finish his meal. "We're in the Mediterranean, so why not catch some rays? As for the shield, it's so Global Justice can't track you. Trust me, Princess, after what you hear today, you're going to want to avoid them. Now, eat up so we can get to work."

The two villains refused to speak further, so Team Possible imitated them and dug into their meals. Once finished, Drakken led them back through the kitchen to a service corridor. After a fairly long walk, they exited a door and found themselves near Senor's pool. Drakken pulled what appeared to be an IPAD out of a pocket and started to manipulate the touchscreen.

"If you want to warn Global Justice that I'm here, I won't stop you," Drakken told her, rather distracted by what he was setting up. "Although your communication devices won't work, I'm sure that organization has the island under some form of surveillance. By the way, what is it, satellite, aircraft or drone?"

"I'd rather not say," Kim told him.

"You're free to keep your secrets," he shrugged. "But if you want them to spot you, you'll have to leave the pool area; go at least one hundred yards in any direction. I have some holographic projectors set up that project a false image sixty feet above the ground. Any observation from above will see an empty pool."

"This leaves us free to have our fun,"" Shego added. "While Senor insists we stay at the visitors quarters, he gives us free run of most of his facilities while we're off the clock. It's a pretty sweet deal."

Kim noticed that Shego had taken off her shorts and shirt, revealing a swimsuit. She didn't know if she should be irritated or appreciative that Ron was making an obvious effort to keep from staring at the older woman.

"What work are you doing?" Kim demanded, trying to exert a little control over the situation. "Trying to corner Europe's gas market, or maybe Southern Europe's electricity market?"

"Ah, I see someone managed to track the shipments and trace the power lines," Drakken showed no irritation. "You could say that I'm trying to become a major player in the energy field."

"To what end? Will you make the world dependent on your energy, then threaten to turn it off if we don't bow to your demands?"

"Why would I want to do that?" Drakken's expression showed honest puzzlement. "I'm hoping to expand the business enough to justify multiple reactors and multiple locations. At that point, I'll be able to drop my prices by making my profits from quantity, rather than margin."

"That doesn't sound very _take over the world-ish_."

"Why would I want to take over the world, when I can sell goods and services to the world for a fine profit?" Drakken asked her. "Ah! My presentation is ready! Just sit back, relax and learn something."

Above the device, INTERPOL'S logo appeared while a narrator provided the time and date of an interview. After a few seconds, the logo faded to show a distinguished, elderly gentleman.

"Greetings," the man said. "The following is a recorded interview, conducted by INTERPOL. I am Secretary General..."

/

"So why am I supposed to believe all of this?" Kim asked, after two hours of video evidence and discussion with Drakken and Shego. "I mean, a lot of it makes sense but there could be plenty of other explanations."

"Do you really think that I would repeatedly go through the effort of creating a high-tech lair, and consistently forget to put simple grills in the ductwork?" Drakken shook his head.

"And the goal," Ron jumped in. "World domination? I've often wondered, 'What's the point?' If you dominate the world you then have to run it, I don't think anyone could manage that."

"No," Drakken sadly shook his head. "If I had a modicum of common sense all those years ago, I would have simply served my prison time and then become wealthy by selling my inventions."

"So it has all been a lie?" Kim tried to keep her expression neutral, but she knew that she looked distraught.

"Not at all!" Drakken countered. "To the best of my knowledge, the other techno-villains were completely legitimate; Dementor, Fiske, Duff, even Lucre. All of them were honestly trying to perform their schemes."

"In addition, I assure you that while my schemes were directed by Global Justice, I made every effort to execute them. Furthermore, your confrontations with Shego were real."

"I hate to admit it, but I wasn't holding back," Shego interjected, not bothering to sit up from where she was basking in the sunlight. "And you gotta admit; after tangling with me, Dementor's goons and Killigan weren't all that tough, were they?"

"That's true enough," Kim mused, feeling a little better.

"However, I'm sure that you want additional proof," Drakken told her. "Here it is; I suspect that Global Justice has chipped both of you. So I set up remote scanners in this location. While you've been sitting here, they have confirmed that both of you have electronic devices in your lower necks. Stoppable has two."

"Now, you'd be foolish to take me at my word," Drakken held up a hand, forestalling Kim's retort. "And you'd be foolish to let us perform any medical procedures, so I ask you to confirm the presence of the chips independently, with no input from either myself or Global Justice."

"How do we manage that?" Ron asked. "If Global Justice is tracking us, like you claim, they'll know if we go to any medical facility and they'll falsify any results."

"Use these," Drakken told him, producing a pair of what appeared to be pendants. "They look like simple pieces of inexpensive jewelry, but are actually short-duration jammers. They will prevent anyone from tracking you via the chips in your bodies...for forty-eight house after they're activated."

He paused a moment, "I didn't think of making one for the rat...Rufus, isn't it? But I didn't detect a chip in the little guy. Anyway, once you return home, in secret, I'm sure that Kim's mother will be able to arrange for X-rays or ultrasounds. I'd go with the X-rays; X-ray facilities are shielded so you'll be able to remove the pendants without being tracked."

"But how do we get home?" Ron countered. "Global Justice brought us here so they might find the jammers when they give us the ride back. We can't call Wade, since the Kimmunicator is probably compromised."

"That's where I come in, Mr. Stoppable," Senor told his guest.

"All of you were so intent on Mr. Lipsky's presentations that you didn't see me arrive," he addressed everyone's surprised expressions. "And it seemed rude to interrupt. My private jet is cleared for international travel and I will arrange your transportation to your home town. By the way, how did you infiltrate my island? Was it scuba or parachute?"

"Jet packs," Kim answered. "We jumped out of a transport aircraft."

"Excellent!" He smiled "You will be able to use them to return home. My jet is scheduled to pick up a guest patient in the city of Vancouver, so it will already be flying near to your home town. You can simply use these jet packs when you are near. Since my jet will never land, nobody will suspect that it has actually dropped you off."

"Once you confirm the presence of the chips, I suggest you have your parents, brothers and your technical man examined as well." Drakken took up the conversation, addressing Kim. "Once you have them removed, have your technical man examine them. If they prove very similar to Bortel's original moodulators, you will know we're telling the truth."

"Okay, I'll admit that I'll have a major beef with Global Justice if those chips are there, like you claim." Kim nodded. "But that still doesn't prove intent. It still doesn't prove that Dr. Director was going to make me..." She glanced at Ron with a blush.

"That's why I urge you to have your parents and technical man checked." Drakken countered. "Using chips as a means to influence you and Shego would be one thing but if she's preparing to influence those around you as well?" Drakken let the statement hang.

"I trust you enough to try to confirm your claims," Ron muttered. "And I think Kim does, too. But I have a question; what do you get out of this?"

"You were secret and safe," the young man continued, his voice growing firmer as he spoke. "Now, you're going to just let us leave? Our report to Global Justice will be enough to remove certain political barriers. You're still the force behind the Diablo Plot! The world hasn't forgotten! If the word gets out that Dr. Drakken is alive and living on Senor's Island, those political considerations that keep Senor out of serious trouble are going to go away!"

He now looked at Senor, "What are you going to do when a combined fleet from every navy in the Mediterranean shows up and demands that you surrender and turn your guests over, as well? The spinning tops of doom aren't going to be much good against a force like that."

"Perhaps I should go first," Drakken suggested to Senor, after the two men sat silent for a minute. The elderly man nodded, so the blue man continued, "I have two reasons; one practical and the other personal. The personal reason is that I want to get revenge on Dr. Director. I spent years humiliating myself at her whim, while having a vial of poison next to my heart. Nobody in the world is going to question what she did to me, but if I can prove she was trying to manipulate a media darling like Kim Possible? Well, the public outcry might be enough to crush her."

"My practical reason is that all secrets are eventually found out," he shrugged. "At the moment, Senor and I are in a position of relative strength. We've decided that this is the best time to throw our cards on the table."

"Perhaps I am in a better position to explain that last reason," Senor stepped in. "You see, even a reclusive villain such as myself is not completely cut off from the rest of the world. I have a staff of servants to maintain my island, and this staff has what you call turnover. Current staff members wish to relocate for various reasons, or might grow weary of their current employment and wish to seek other opportunities. It does not matter, there is a constant trickle of new people coming onto my island and various law enforcement agencies have tried to use this trickle to infiltrate my lair in the past. I will eventually wind up with an undercover agent and such an agent will eventually report my villainous guests are here."

"There are other ways in which word may have gotten out that Dr. Drakken was on my island," he continued. "But the final word is simple, as Mr. Lipsky here said, all secrets are eventually unearthed. At this moment, much of Europe's natural gas stockpiles have been depleted over the recent winter and a certain politician in the east is flexing his muscles, figuratively speaking, by threatening to turn off some natural gas pipelines which pass through the Crimea. Western Europe finds itself somewhat dependent upon my energy...at the moment."

"In addition, several of the patients at my medical facility represent powerful political or economical interests throughout the world. Some of these patients, having recently undergone treatment, have not yet recovered sufficiently to leave this island. Before you protest, I have no intention of holding anyone as hostages but I will take advantage of the fact that their very presence makes the use of military force a risky option."

"You can say that this is a gamble, young man." The elderly man concluded. "Dr. Drakken and myself find ourselves in a temporary position of relative strength. It is our hope that this position of relative strength will make the various world powers pause just long enough to conduct a complete investigation."

"And that's were I play my final cards," Dr. Drakken now took the stage again. "Kim Possible, I'm going to give you a couple of flash drives, which detail what I have been doing on this island. The first drive is for your mother. It details the medical procedures the doctors on this island have been performing, using the scanning and projected energy technology I've developed."

"Do you really think she'll be interested in anything you built?"

"Actually, yes." Drakken showed no indication that he was insulted. "Your mother is a professional; she will always want what's best for her patients. During my time under Dr. Director's control, I spent hundreds of hours carefully planning the procedure needed to remove the medical device she had implanted in me. I then spent more hours custom building a synthodrone to actually perform the procedure. When I arrived on this island, I made my technology available to a handful of real medical doctors. They were able to perform procedures that bordered on miracles. As these doctors became more familiar with the capabilities and limitations of my technology, they became even more capable."

"Now, I'm working with some of these same doctors in order to customize my technology even more, honing it to what they want," he concluded. "But it's difficult working through third parties. I can't let these doctors actually know that it's me they're cooperating with. If my gamble pays off, I'll be able to come into the open and help doctors worldwide work more efficiently!"

"Suddenly a humanitarian?" Kim's sarcasm was obvious.

"Not at all," he shrugged in return. "I'll make a great deal of money out of it...and there will be no meddling kids and mole rat to stop me." The last a part he added with a grin.

"By helping the rich and influential?" Kim's counter sounded a little weak.

"At first," he admitted. "But cutting edge capabilities and procedures become mainstream very quickly. Experimental procedures twenty years ago are outpatient procedures today. My technology will hurry that progress along, generating wealth for me in the process. I think the world's medical practitioners will find this a more than satisfying bargain."

"The second drive is for your father," he continued, handing her another drive. "This one details the amount of energy I can produce, and in which forms, from my reactors. What I think he'll find particularly interesting is the fact that I can produce a reactor that can fit onto his Keplar Spacecraft and possibly provide the energy he needs too implement his space-folding theories."

"Interstellar travel?" Kim's eyes flew wide.

"Not right away," Drakken smiled and shook his head. "Kim, I've been reading your father's reports and I have to say that he's a brilliant astrophysicist. He has developed theories that I simply cannot fathom. However, he doesn't have a power source sufficient to convert these theories into reality. I believe I can provide that power. It isn't as easy as simply throwing one of my reactors on his spacecraft; it could take decades of experimentation performed by generations of brilliant scientists but I believe that before old age takes my vision, I could see the first spacecraft make a round trip to another solar system."

"But your need to remain under cover complicates things?" Kim now sounded much less combative.

"Now you're seeing the situation clearly," Drakken agreed. "But in addition, this drive has files that detail how I've managed to turn my raw energy into a natural gas substitute. It's actually simple, with enough energy. I've simply distilled sea water, then used hydrolysis to separate the oxygen and hydrogen, then combined the hydrogen with carbon to make something similar to natural gas. Think about that, Kim, vast amounts of clean energy available to the world."

As long as they pay you," Kim added; but again, her voice wasn't angry.

"Of course, we all believe in capitalism," Drakken smiled. "People already pay for energy from oil and coal producers, why shouldn't they pay me, especially if I charge less for each BTU?"

"So you're strengthening your bargaining position by showing some top minds the value of letting you remain free," Ron mused. "That's actually pretty clever."

"That is the choice we wish to present the world's governments," Senor agreed. " _Is Dr. Drakken really that bad? Look at the benefit we can gain from allowing him to go about his business and in the meantime, perhaps we should look at why he performed his villainous acts. What? He was coerced with poison in his chest? Perhaps he isn't a villain after all_."

"But what do you gain from all of this?" Kim addressed Senor.

"Villainy has grown rather stale," he admitted. "When Shego arrived on my island, nearly two years ago, she offered me a criminal alliance with Drakken, in which we would make a great deal of money. Now, his operations have made me even richer than I was before without actually breaking many laws. Perhaps it is time to become a legitimate businessman. Also, I would like to travel the world in the open."

"Finally, I would also like to live to see an interstellar flight," he admitted. "When I was a boy, cross-country travel involved walking, mules and locomotives. Seeing someone fly to a distant star and return will make clear to me just how much the world has changed since my childhood."

"I've got one last thing to throw into the pot," Shego interrupted. "And this is to give our two heroes a little more motivation."

"And what's that?" Kim's voice was back to challenging when she addressed Shego.

"Just logic," Shego smirked. "I've had a lot of time trying to think about why the 'ol cyclops was planning what she was and I think I've come up with it. You see, the one thing you can say about her is that she really loves efficiency. Most of the silly schemes she had Drakken try to pull off actually accomplished multiple things...testing technology, testing security and training you. Now, take this love of efficiency and mix it with her determination to breed more heroes."

"First, she's gonna look at the limitations," Shego continued, noticing that her audience was looking thoughtful. "She's got two females and seven males that can pass comet powers to the next generation, as well as one male who's genes are ideal for accepting comet powers. One of her problems is that one of the females is related to four of the males while the other female is related to the other three males. Another problem is that she wants to keep her activities secret, so she has to come up with a plausible situation to get a female together with an unrelated male. Finally, if she manages to breed one of the females, that one's out of the agent game for awhile, isn't she?"

"That's why I think she was getting ready to put me together with your old man," Shego speculated. "I bet her thought process went something like this _'Shego's skills and powers aren't doing me any good while she's in prison, so why don't I make use of her uterus?'_ Nice and efficient, as long as you only look at people as assets."

"So how is this motivation for me?"

"Patience, Pumpkin," Shego admonished. "Now, let's look at you and Ronnie here. I've seen you on the groupie channels; acting all cute and stealing kisses when you don't think anyone's watching."

"You...you think that we're...that we're only together because of the chips?!" Kim looked distraught and Ron didn't look much better.

"Who knows?" Shego held up a hand. "What I'm saying is this, just how much of an extra tweak will it take to get the two of you to get wild..." Here, the woman's grin became predatory, "if you're not already?"

"THAT'S none of your business!" Kim snarled.

"Hey, it's none of HER business either," Shego countered. "But I bet she's thinking of it, so you might want to think of it, as well."

"So what's your point?" Kim demanded.

"Just this, it's public knowledge that the two of you are a couple. Now, it doesn't really matter if the cyclops tweaks the chips or if your own hormones take care of it. Heck, you might even do it all boring and moral and get married first. It doesn't matter, Betts has her super-kid to manipulate and nobody is going to suspect that it was anything more than the two of you letting nature take its course."

"But what about after that?" Now, Shego's voice was much less mocking, more intense. "Betts is gonna want to produce kids with _both_ parents contributing comet alterations. For all Ronnie's monkey mojo, he isn't comet-affected. For you, that means she has to get you together with one of my brothers. To do that, she'll have to first break the two of you up."

"Aren't you getting a little out there with your speculation?" Kim countered.

"Maybe," Shego shrugged. "But it explains why Global Justice put a chip in Ronnie!"

"Look Pumpkin, let's turn off the emotions and be honest. You're a pretty hot little thing and Ronnie's had a thing for you for some time. If you really get amorous, precautions in place or not, do you really think he's gonna say no?"

"If it's that easy, why didn't he take advantage of the situation when we first had the moodulator's on us?" Kim snapped back.

"Let's ask him," Shego shrugged. "What about it, Sidekick? You had the teenage boy's dream, a hot little redhead wanting to get busy! Why did you try to break it off?"

"It...it was so sudden," Ron was blushing furiously, but it was obvious he was trying to be honest and remember the situation. "That day was so weird; first Kim was normal, then she was mad, then she was sad then mad again. Suddenly, she was...all over me."

He glanced at his girlfriend, then back to his feet. "I thought it was some kind of rebound thing. Why would I go from ' _just a friend_ ' to ' _I want him_ ' so fast? It wasn't right."

"What about now?" Shego pressed, her voice considerably less mocking. "The two of you have been together for a couple of years, the romantic feelings are established. Instead of coming here, what if you would have gone on a mission somewhere else, had to stay overnight and in a private setting, your girlfriend came on to you and wanted to relieve some tension...what would happen?"

Ron looked extremely uncomfortable but he finally answered, "I...I think it would happen."

The blonde dropped his head but his girlfriend grabbed his hand in support.

"That is one thing about you sidekick, you're honest," Shego continued. "This is my point, Princess; Cyclops has to know that the two of you are a pretty tight item. Manipulating the two of you into having a kid won't be all that rough...and it won't raise many suspicions. But what if she wants to breed you with another of the comet-affected? She has to break the two of you up and the best way she can do that is to manipulate _both_ of you. _That's_ why I think she has Ron chipped, as well as you."

"But I'd like you to prove it, for yourself," she continued. "When you get back home, get a hold of Hego, get him away from the tower and explain this whole thing to him. Find out if he or any others in that team have girlfriends...secret or not. Now, if my brothers are chipped you _might_ write that off as Dr. Director wanting some measure of control, in case they get out of hand."

"But if any of those idiots have girlfriends...and if those girlfriends are chipped, then you'll know that whoever is getting chip-happy wants to control relationships as well as people,' Shego concluded.

"Now you know the truth," Senor concluded. "At least from our point of view. You know what we wish to gain from your actions; wealth, safety and a certain amount of adoration. You know what you will gain if our suspicions are correct; control of your own futures. Finally, you know what we wish you to do and what the world stands to gain should you do so. The choice is now yours to make."

"One thing before we make our decision," Kim countered. "I want to know one last thing; what really happened under the Wind River Mountains?"

"I'll trade information," Drakken offered. "I'll tell you what happened at my lair, and you tell me what happened to Dr. Director after the meltdown."

"Deal!" Kim nodded.

"There really isn't all that much to report," Drakken shrugged. "My extensive preparations for removing Dr. Director's device payed off better than I suspected. Thirty-six hours after the procedure, it became obvious I would recover faster than I had hoped. While recovering, I pondered how a medical doctor could make use of the technology I had used to extract the device."

"That's when I came in," Shego interrupted. "I realized that we could do better than making trinkets for Henchco...for a fraction of what they were really worth. We had the capability of working with medical professionals, producing energy and setting up a manufacturing facility. I gathered up the last of the cash that Drakken had saved an used it to visit this island."

"She outlined how Drakken's technology could be converted to not only wealth, but political influence," Senior took up the tale. "The Big Book of Villainy says that 'the sophisticated criminal finds ways to make the politically powerful unwilling to confront him'. To this end, I financed the effort to smuggle the equipment from Dr. Drakken's lair and set up operations here."

"But we couldn't move the active reactor," Drakken continued. "Once assembled, some of the components couldn't easily be disassembled to smuggling-friendly sizes. I was thinking of filling in the lair and leaving it but Shego came up with the idea of activating some contingencies I had in place...in case the procedure didn't work."

"It made everyone think that Drakken was dead," Shego looked very pleased with herself. "I went to Henchco and made a scene demanding a job, just to make it more convincing." She tilted her head, "Did the 'ol Cyclops find out about that?"

"Yes," Kim told her. "And it confirmed to Global Justice that Drakken was dead."

"Sweet!"

"After that, there's not much you probably don't already know," Drakken took up the tale again. "With Senior's wealth and my synthodrones, we were able to get everything up and running very quickly. With Senior's connections, we were able to find initial customers and with solid quality control, we were able to expand our customer base."

"Now, did Dr. Director even break out in a sweat when I made my _accusations from beyond the grave_?"

"I really don't know," Kim admitted. "I'm not a member and I doubt if Dr. Director would let just anyone know. The only thing I know is that there were multiple reviews of her practices and that they found some questionable activities...but nothing to warrant removing her from her post. Some reviews are still in progress."

"Then it really is up to you," Drakken told her. "My accusations won't be enough to seriously harm Dr. Director, but your reports, with the physical evidence inside your own bodies could easily prove enough to topple her from power. It is up to you to decide if she should be free to continue her plans."

/

"Do you think they'll go through with it?" Shego asked Drakken, as the two watched Senor's private jet, carrying Team Possible, fly off into the distance.

"I'm sure they'll do what we asked," he responded, draping one arm over her shoulders. It was a gesture he had made more often as time had gone by and Shego saw no reason to make him stop.

"They'll make all the checks, find out we told them the truth, and try to hold Director responsible for her actions," he concluded.

"Do you think it'll do any good?" Shego now rested her head on his shoulder...also a gesture that had become more common as time had gone by.

"I hope so," he sighed. "It might not bring her down, so to speak, but at the very least, the U.N. will put her on a very short leash."

"I'll keep watching the news," she said. "Like you said, the Princess is a media darling and if Cyclops manages to beat any official investigation, Kimmie just might take it to the press."

In the meantime, there's work to do," Drakken reluctantly moved his arm. "An eye surgeon from Belgium has come up with an innovative use of my intersecting energy beams...as long as I can drop the power. I also need you to check how well the synthodrones cleaned the precipitates out of the second evaporation tank."

"You seem to be taking the chance that Dr. Director doesn't get canned pretty well," Shego commented. "Aren't you concerned that she's gonna come after you?"

"Of course I'm concerned," he countered. "But I'm beyond caring. If she comes, she comes. If she doesn't, we'll have wealth and security here."

"But what about fame?" Shego asked. "Don't you want the world to know that you've crushed Dr. Director? Don't you want the world to know it's your genius that's providing the clean energy. Don't you want the world to know that you're powering the first interstellar spacecraft?"

"Fame is useless," Drakken grumbled, his voice bitter. "Let the world worship its heroes, I'll take the world's money. Speaking of which, I'll also need to run initial tests on the textile mill we've constructed.

"I never understood that," Shego confessed. "I mean, I know that the synthrodrones should be able to produce cloth even cheaper than a third-world sweatshop, but why bother? Where's the major profits?"

"The one thing I'm willing to do for the world," Drakken now sounded more upbeat. "If one of the diagrams I put on the flash drive for Kim's mother reaches the public, we'll be deluged with orders for our product."

"What product is that?"

"Comfortable, modest hospital gowns, of course."

- _finis_ -

* * *

 _A/N:_

 _That, dear reader, is my story. While I know I left it very open-ended I thought it a good point to end, with the reader left to wonder just what sort of consequences Dr. Director could be facing._

 _Again, my fondest thanks to Joe Stoppinghem, for his constant and helpful Beta work._

 _Best wishes to all..._

 _daccu65_

 _PS. Since originally posting this story, I have written a 2 chapter sequel,_ The Hearing. _Please enjoy._


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